Perfect Illusion
by Sofia-Casualty
Summary: With the breakdown of her marriage to Michael and the tragic passing of Will Curtis, Connie must bear her grief privately for more than one reason but a distraction soon presents itself in the form of Sam Strachan. Will this be another road to heartbreak? [Note: This is an Old school Holby City fic centred on Connie Beauchamp & Sam Strachan set around Series 8 (2006) of Holby]
1. Chapter 1

***Alrighty, let's see how we go with this! I posted a poll on my twitter about possibly doing this fic, I hope it interests you! It's a throwback fic so you'll be noticing some very, very, very old names around and if you're a Casualty fan reading this and know nothing of old Holby maybe it'll encourage you to re-watch the old days. If you liked Sam Strachan's appearances on Casualty, I assure you Connie and Sam in their Holby days are especially fiery! Anyway, enjoy and if you need anything clarifying such as names etc please feel free to message me on twitter ( sofia_casualty). Please review as I'd love to hear what you think and enjoy! Also, any paragraphs in** _italics_ **are flashbacks.***

The same haunting thought continued to swirl through around in her head the same way her red wine was gently moving in her glass. It was almost as if her own voice was echoing in her brain from that night. The hurt in his voice was etched into her memory forever. She blinked slowly, a tear escaping only to roll painfully slowly down her lightly freckled skin. _I just needed to know I could have you._ Her petty, power games prevented that night from being the start of something. Her heart ached at the feeling of regret, her conscience fully understanding that she felt something for Will Curtis. He was buried this morning at 9am.

Taking the wine glass to her lips once more she swallowed the remaining amount of alcohol. She was curled up pathetically on her couch, it was nearing 11pm and the house was considerably more empty than usual. Michael's brother had finally finished moving the last of Michael's crap out of the house, since he was in prison there was no chance of him doing it himself and she couldn't stand having it around her any more. Now it was just herself and her things. Her wine and her ugly thoughts.

The funeral was understandably awful. She'd never known a grief like this, to mourn the way she was and have everyone's scathing eyes upon her. On the outside people only saw their combative relationship at work. How hard she was on him, the cruel remarks, the daily taunting but she knew and he knew that it was a caring approach disguised in thorns. When eyes were averted, they'd be flirting and smiling. At times, they'd be within such close proximity to one another she could _feel_ his heartbeat. Nobody saw that. Things were made particularly difficult when his wife verbally attacked her after the funeral service, prompting her to leave out of respect. After all, she couldn't start arguing in defence, what was she supposed to say? _Actually, I loved him and the night before he died he was in my bed?_ Lord knows that would have gone down a treat. No, she had to keep it zipped and be on her way. Cut to real time, sat drinking and crying alone replaying her last encounter with Will. They'd been sleeping around for a few weeks, a well kept secret obviously protected by their display of angry exchanges on the ward. They both knew it was _something_ but with him having a wife and child on the way there was no chance of them becoming _anything._ He made the mistake of questioning her late one night, laying in bed under the window-framed moonlight.

 _"What is this?" His eyes flickered over her shoulder blades before him. He was laying directly behind her, facing her bare back with only a thin sheet covering their lower halves._

 _"What?" The low tone in her voice was like a warning signal sometimes, a way of alerting him to tread carefully._

 _"This, us. Me and you." He smiled, unable to see her broken expression. Being such a figure of self-assurance made it painful for her to admit to wanting this to be something more than just a quick shag here and there. That she felt for him and wanted him to leave his wife, but she knew it would never happen so she wasn't about to put herself in that vulnerable position of being rejected. She wasn't going to let another man hurt her ever again the way Michael had._

 _"I just needed to know I could have you." Her jaw clenched upon completing her sentence and the room fell deathly silent. It was quiet before but now the sound of traffic outside seemed to have died completely and his soft breaths behind her ceased to exist. The silence was instead replaced with a sharp exhalation, an irritated sigh as he threw the sheet off of his legs and perched himself on the side of the bed. Grabbing his pants and trousers he began throwing them on angrily. She couldn't move, she didn't want to look at him and show any sign of weakness, longing. Love. Instead, she let him have the last word before he left._

 _"You just can't stop playing games, can you?" He shook his head after getting his shirt back on. "I thought this was what you wanted?"_

The smashing of her wine glass shattered her thoughts immediately, she couldn't stop replaying that night in her head. Over and over and over again. What did he mean? He was prepared to leave his wife? He wanted to be with her too? These were pointless and painful questions that she'd _never_ know the answers to. Sniffling softly she glanced down at the mess she'd made on her kitchen floor, her mind had wandered so far that she couldn't recall leaving the living room. Only coming back to the moment when she dropped her glass on the tiles. Heartache didn't sit well with Connie Beauchamp, not one bit.

* * *

"Do you think it's wise to be back so s-"

"Elliot, don't." She snapped aggressively at her dear bumbling friend. Her only friend. "I'm not going to sit at home and wallow, he was my registrar, my colleague just as he was yours." Her heart twisted painfully but her face showed nothing. "And if that's the case are you sure _you're_ not back too soon? Or anybody else for that matter?" Turning the question back on him he merely shook his head in response as he walked along side her to their office.

"No, but I just thought-"

"Well don't, I'm fine. Just let me do my job." Hanging her bag and coat up she readjusted her shirt before sitting down at her desk. This was going to be a long day, she could feel it in her bones. Massaging her temples delicately she only allowed herself this one moment to feel upset before shaking it off and facing the paperwork before her.

"Lord Byrne is popping into Darwin today, he's got some ideas and plans to discuss with us regarding the new Cardiothoracic wing."

"About time, how long has this been in the works now?"

"Long enough." He smiled and took his own seat at his desk. "Are you attending the meeting, the entire board will be present." He smiled, she knew what he was doing but since he wasn't forwardly trying to distract her she decided to let it slip. "Might be a good opportunity to put forward some of your ideas?"

"When is it?" The nonchalance radiating off her words was a good indication to him that she was _clearly_ masking her grief. It was noticeable to nobody else but Elliot, it was as if he could see right through her at times and right now that's exactly what she needed.

"This afternoon in the board room, they'll have food provided-"

"You don't need to tempt me with free food, Elliot. I'm not you." She smiled ever so slightly, still staring at her computer screen.

"Ah." He chuckled sweetly. "Glad to see she's still in there." He'd risen from his chair, files in hand as he reached the door. "Take it easy today." The look in his eye registered with her immediately. He could feel her sorrow but would say no more. There was a silent exchange between them before he left her to it.

* * *

Listening to the pen-pushers from upstairs drone on about budget cuts and cost effective movement was almost as torturous as listening to Elliot pig out on the mini sausage rolls he'd attended the meeting for. Sat with her legs crossed she glanced around the room angrily, she didn't even know why but the fact that not one word had been breathed in regards to the passing of Will made her blood boil. Divine intervention occurred at that very moment.

"To finish up this small gathering, we'd like to recognise the devastating loss of one of our own. Will Curtis, as I understand, was an extremely talented young man with his whole life ahead of him."

Lord Byrne continued to blather, although they were kind words, they angered her. He didn't _know_ him, he had no idea how talented he was. It was all for show. To Connie, these people were damned it they did and damned if they didn't, she couldn't help but feel rage no matter what they did or didn't say. In between smaller, more respectful bites, Elliot stole a glance at his friend. She was hurting and although he didn't quite know the extent of it or their relationship, he knew she'd lost a friend. Finishing up his food he tuned back in to Lord Byrne's speech.

"So, to conclude, we've decided to appoint two new Cardiothoracic registrars to Darwin. We want to give aspiring Consultants the same opportunities that our late Will Curtis had, offer them the chance to learn under the best and become the best. This all ties in well with the plans to expand Darwin, with an albeit tragic loss we must look to the future and grow from such circumstances." Frozen in his seat, Elliot was too afraid to look at Connie. He could feel the fury brewing. Half expecting her to interject Lord Byrne, he felt his body relax when she remained quiet.

* * *

She remained that way for the rest of the afternoon and upon nightfall they were still occupying their office in silence, the yellow and orange city lights flickering below them in the window.

"Well that's me finished for the night." He scooted back in his chair, turning his computer monitor off before grabbing his satchel. His eyes landed upon her tired frame as she continued typing. "Perhaps we should go for a drink, maybe wind down a bit?" He offered sweetly, not wishing to leave her on her own.

"I'm fine, thank you." Her face barely moved, illuminated by the glow of her computer screen.

"Another time maybe." Smiling sweetly, he looked down and headed for the door. "Don't stay too late." The brief eye contact they shared was her way of answering, he nodded gently and closed the door behind himself. As soon as she heard the click she exhaled shakily, her eyes stinging with the need to weep but she wouldn't allow it. The mere thought of a new registrar had her balling her fists, out with one in with another. It sickened her. One of the two registrars starting tomorrow was in fact Lord Byrne's son, Joseph. Trust him to use such a tragedy to further his son's surgical career. The second name was a Mr. Sam Strachan. Her heart had rejected both names but if she had to choose any it definitely wouldn't be a Byrne.

"Mr. Strachan it is then." She muttered miserably to herself, a glass of wine on her mind already.


	2. Chapter 2

***Thanks for the reviews and feedback so far, greatly appreciated! And thanks for the suggestion of changing this fic to a Casualty crossover, I've done that now. I hope you enjoy this next chapter and once again please review, the feedback helps a lot. I'm not just saying that either, I read into things WAY too much so if a chapter doesn't get many reviews I just assume it's because it was really bad and nobody liked it! Lol, anyway, hope you like it! XX***

 _She remained that way for the rest of the afternoon and upon nightfall they were still occupying their office in silence, the yellow and orange city lights flickering below them in the window._

 _"Well that's me finished for the night." He scooted back in his chair, turning his computer monitor off before grabbing his satchel. His eyes landed upon her tired frame as she continued typing. "Perhaps we should go for a drink, maybe wind down a bit?" He offered sweetly, not wishing to leave her on her own._

 _"I'm fine, thank you." Her face barely moved, illuminated by the glow of her computer screen._

 _"Another time maybe." Smiling sweetly, he looked down and headed for the door. "Don't stay too late." The brief eye contact they shared was her way of answering, he nodded gently and closed the door behind himself. As soon as she heard the click she exhaled shakily, her eyes stinging with the need to weep but she wouldn't allow it. The mere thought of a new registrar had her balling her fists, out with one in with another. It sickened her. One of the two registrars starting tomorrow was in fact Lord Byrne's son, Joseph. Trust him to use such a tragedy to further his son's surgical career. The second name was a Mr. Sam Strachan. Her heart had rejected both names but if she had to choose any it definitely wouldn't be a Byrne._

 _"Mr. Strachan it is then." She muttered miserably to herself, a glass of wine on her mind already._

* * *

The regret was sinking in already. What the _hell_ had she got herself into? In the doorway of the private room she stood glaring at his back, her arms folded and an unimpressed expression plastered across her face.

"Mr Strachan." She barked loudly, shocking both him and his attractive patient.

"Excuse me." He smiled down at the pretty blonde, receiving a smile back before he headed towards his angry superior. "Mrs Beauchamp?"

"Need I remind you that you have more than _one_ patient, Mr Strachan. I suggest you stop lapping up the attention of our wannabe supermodel here and tend to Mr Roberts, now please."

"Right." He folded his lips together, slightly irked and brushed past her. She locked eyes with the tanned blonde in the bed, giving her a satisfied smirk before leaving too.

It had been four weeks since Will's funeral, five weeks since his death and it still didn't hurt any less. She had her hands full with Mr Strachan to say the absolute least. Every day she wished she'd selected Joseph Byrne over him. He was a womaniser, a flirt and cocky as all hell too. Joseph was mousy and nervous which also annoyed her deeply but Sam? He was something else.

"I see he's doing well." Elliot spoke over her shoulder at the nurses station as they watched on over him. She couldn't help but smile seeing him in a rough situation. Mr Roberts' catheter had been pulled out in a fit of rage, leading to a leakage of urine pooling on to the floor surrounding Sam's shoes. He looked disgusted and livid, even more so when he caught her looking with a smirk on her face.

"He's arrogant and cocky. He could do with being knocked down a peg." Her smile faded and she resumed her task of flicking through patient notes before she was due in theater.

"He reminds me a little of Will actually-"

"He is _nothing_ like Will." She spat viciously, a deathly stare off happening between the two as Sam approached cautiously.

"Right." He muttered softly. "I'm sorry for saying so." His voice was timid and a little hurt. "Excuse me, I've got patients to see." With a bowed head he squeezed past her, a wave of guilt hitting her hard. Her mood swings were deadly at the moment. Taking a deep breath she blinked slowly in attempt to cool herself.

"Is everything okay?" Asking delicately he glanced at the back of Elliot as he disappeared.

"Yes!" The aggression in her tone slightly startled him before she lowered her voice in order to dismiss the attention she'd drawn their way. "Everything is _fine._ Go and get scrubbed up and stop wasting my time."

He was honestly struggling to cope with this. At first he thought it would be a breeze, women _loved_ him and he loved them but Connie? She was icy and immune to his advances. The nurses were all over him but there was no fun in pursuing them right now. He'd been challenged with Connie and he was going to get her eventually, he'd make sure of it. Nobody could refuse him. Come to think of it, in the one month that he'd known her he couldn't recall seeing a genuine smile grace her face. He'd heard about her husband and what he'd done, he'd also heard about the many men she'd bedded but how could that be true? He couldn't even get her to smile let alone strip off and sleep with him.

"You should get a move on you know?" Chrissie slid up beside him, smiling at him as he thought deeply. He'd watched Connie march off around the corner and continued to think about his approach. Everyone with eyes knew Chrissie had a thing for him, he'd slept with her a couple of times but it was just a bit of fun to him and he was beginning to think she felt a little more strongly about their evenings spent together than he did.

"I think you're lying." He stated, a squint completing his sentence.

"Are you mad?" She laughed. "She's a ball-breaker, you best get a move on-"

"Not about that." Turning to face her, his eyes flickered down to her hands as the pulled at his tie playfully.

"About what then?"

"Connie's sexual conquests." Her smile vanished, the women shared a mutual hate for one another and for more reasons than one. "You say she's bedded half the hospital but I can't even get a flirty one-liner out of her."

"Everybody knows." Her voice had deepened considerably, irritated that Connie was the topic of their conversation. She dropped his tie and looked at the notes before her. "Mubbs Hussein, Will Curtis, even Ric Griffin and God only knows who else."

"You really don't like her, do you?" He laughed.

"Well niether do you!" Hitting him playfully, she looked him up and down with a hint of seduction about her.

"I never said that." He pulled his tie from her grip as she'd began toying with it again. "In fact, I like her quite a lot-"

"Mr Strachan!" Connie's voice more or less silenced the ward as she called out for him yet again.

"I'll see you in the bar after work." Rushing his words out he dashed off to get scrubbed up, not wanting to anger her any further.

"Yeah, fat chance." Her face turned stony as she watched him leave. She was sick of losing out to other women. Especially Connie Beauchamp.

The atmosphere in theater was particularly prickly, their surgical masks covered most of their faces, leaving only their eyes to give people the indication that there was something fierce brewing between the pair. Luckily, nobody really seemed to pay them any mind and apart from a minor bleed caused by Sam's heavy hand, the procedure went smoothly. Upon leaving, Connie never spoke a word to him. Instead she marched out, tossing her mask, cap and gown into the bin as she left via the swinging double doors, with Sam hot on her tail.

"Mrs Beauchamp-"

"How many times have I told you to concentrate on what you're doing?" She spun around, the temper extremely obvious to him. Their arguments always seemed off balance when they were in scrubs because her true height without heels was that of only around five feet and four inches, causing him to tower over her, as was the case right now.

"Sorry?" His brow wrinkled, slightly confused.

"I have to repeat myself to you _multiple_ times a day! And you _still_ don't listen!"

"Is this about the bleed? Because I apologised-"

"Apologies don't save lives, Mr Strachan!" His ears were positively ringing from the volume of her voice. She was furious. "I have lost _count_ of how many times you've disregarded my authority and my expertise. You are here to work _under_ me and to _learn_ from me! Not to carry on as you please, throwing yourself at anyone and anything that moves!" She glanced around the hallway at the eyes resting upon their quarrel before continuing with a lower voice. "You're on your final warning, Mr Strachan. One more slip up and you're done here." Her eyes never reconnected with his after the first angry sentence was yelled. She knew within herself this was all Will related, even Elliot watching from the distance could tell too but everyone else was oblivious. Including Sam. All he could do was watch her storm off towards her office, rubbing her forehead in a stressed manner. He moved to follow her, his nostrils flaring but Elliot stepped in front of him and blocked the way.

"After sharing an office with her for as long as I have, I strongly advise against going after her." He offered him a small, slightly sympathetic smile. "Just give her some time to cool off, you could do with calming down a bit too. You can't fight fire with fire."

"I can't do this anymore." He shook his head exasperatedly. "Anyone can see how harsh she's being, this goes beyond the occasional teacher-student spats. This is bullying." He locked eyes with Elliot. "That's what happened with the last guy, isn't it? Before he died?"

"I don't think Will Curtis should be dragged into this, Mr Strachan." He blinked sadly, Connie was making things so much harder for herself. "Like I said, give her a moment to cool down. I'll have a word with her too, okay?" He waited for some sort of reassurance that he agreed and wouldn't be taking things further.

"Fine but the same goes for her. I might be on my final warning but so is she." He relaxed his tensed frame, shaking his head as he walked off towards the locker room when Chrissie appeared at his side.

"She's right you know."

"Oh not you as well." He huffed and picked up the pace, desperate to be on his own.

"It's not often I agree with Connie but maybe you just need to cool it on the social side of things. She's one of the best Cardiothoracic surgeons in the _country_ and you have the opportunity to learn from her. I don't know." She shrugged mid sentence. "Just knuckle down, pay attention."

"You mean be more like that square?" He nodded his head towards Joseph who was engrossed in some sort of medical book, his white coat polishing off the surgeon look he was sporting.

"There's nothing wrong with trying, Sam." She smiled sweetly, rubbing his arm as she separated from his side and headed back to the nurses station.

They were right, all of them and it angered him immensely. Closing the locker room door behind himself, he sank into the settee and sighed loudly. No matter how attractive she was, how much he wanted to bed her or how evil she could be, she was still his boss at the end of the day. She wouldn't let him forget it either.

* * *

"That was a nice little show you put on out there." Clicking their office door closed behind himself, he glanced at Connie sat defeatedly at her desk. Her head resting in her hands tiredly.

"Oh god, please, don't start-"

"No, I am starting." He butted in, something she wasn't used to from him and she looked up instantly. "You've been _nasty_ to everyone for the last month or so now. I get it, you're grieving but you need to stop taking it out on those around you. We're your team, your colleagues. We're supposed to look after each other. And Sam? You're supposed to be nurturing him and teaching him, not breaking him down to nothing, Connie. He said you're bullying him and after everything that happened with Will-"

"I'm _not_ grieving." Her voice was small and her eyes avoided his at all cost as he moved closer. She ignored all of the important points from his sentence, choosing to focus only on the part that made her sound weak, attempting to correct his statement with an obvious lie.

"I don't know exactly what was going on between you and Will-"

"Nothing! _Nothing_ was going on between us! What don't you understand about that?!" She stood up ferociously, turning her back to him and staring out of the window. She couldn't control her emotions anymore. She'd managed for so long to turn her sorrow and grief into anger. Easily playing off her devastation as her famous bad temper, directing it at anyone and everyone crossing her path. Her left hand found her hip and propped itself up as her right hand clasped over her mouth, the tears rolling reluctantly. Elliot remained almost as silent as her cries apart from his loud breathing. Approaching her delicately, he placed a hand on her left shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly. The words she'd just spoken to Sam resonated with her so strongly. _Apologies_ _don't save lives._ Her last sentence uttered to Will's body in the mortuary was _I'm sorry_ and she repeated it over and over and over again in hope that it would do something but it didn't and it never would.

"I think you should talk to someone-"

"No." She choked the words out quickly and snapped out of her flashback, swiping at her tears as if stopping them would automatically fix the issue. "Absolutely not." Sniffling briefly, she remained with her back to him before they were rudely interrupted by the one and only Sam Strachan.

"Mrs Beauchamp-" He halted his words upon noticing the strange situation before him. Connie huffed angrily, her back still facing him and the door.

"Mr Strachan, now's not a good time." Giving him a look that said _what the hell?_ Elliot widened his eyes and signalled his head in a crying Connie's direction. Finally it clicked with the fiesty registrar.

"Right, sorry, I uh, I didn't realise." He cleared his throat. "I'll come back later." He left as quickly as he'd come, leaving the two consultants to pick up where they left off.

"Okay, well if you don't talk to a professional, I want you to at least talk to me? Bottling things up won't do you any favours, Connie."

"Please." She scoffed having finally gotten her emotions back under control. "I've bottled things up all my life and haven't exploded yet. I think I can manage, Elliot." Her nose sounded stuffy and uncomfortable. He hated when she was like this, it was so out of character and it worried him.

"Well, you know where am I if and when you want to talk." His hand slipped from her shoulder gently, gathering his files before leaving quietly. Sam was still outside waiting. "Mr Strachan." He began firmly. "I thought I told you to give her some time?"

"That's not because of me, is it?" He pointed at the office door referring to Connie's tears, completely disregarding the older man's words as he jumped into his twenty-one questions.

"What? No, no." He shook his grey head. "That's nothing you need to worry about, just leave her alone and let her come to you. In the meantime, perhaps you should get on with your ward rounds?" Attempting to sound authoritative he gave him a stern look, it paled in comparison to Connie's death glare but Sam mentally gave him points for trying.

It was nightfall by the time he saw her again, this time she was neither crying nor ferociously angry. He'd finished for the day and was about to meet Chrissie in the bar but before doing so he decided to defy Elliot's suggestion of leaving her alone and instead found himself knocking on her door quite unsurely. Her voice called out from him to come in, taking a deep breath he did just that.

"Mrs Beauchamp, I just wanted to apologise for earlier." He closed the door after entering and winced, trying to change his words last minute. "I mean, I know apologies don't save lives, I just meant, I'm sorry for not listening all the time and-"

"Stop." She breathed tiredly. "It's been a long day, you're trying and that's all I can ask of you." She was so calm in comparison to earlier, he couldn't help but wonder discreetly if she had some sort of mood disorder. "You're a good surgeon and I should get off your back." There it was, she smiled for the first time and immediately he smiled too. That was the first bit of good feedback he'd had off her the whole time he'd been here and it felt incredible. He forgot how nice it felt to be positively reinforced and praised. "And I'm sorry as well."

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay too? Earlier you looked like-"

"I'm fine, thank you." Her jaw clenched slightly as she cut him off, prompting him to change the subject and fast.

"I'm going to knuckle down from now on, I hope you know that?"

"And I'll see that you do." Leaning forward to rest on her desk, she glanced at her computer screen again. "Now go on, I'm sure you've got a pretty young blonde waiting for you down in the bar." She smiled again, this time not looking at him.

"Actually, I'm meeting Chrissie Williams for a drink, if you want to come too I mean?" He cringed at what he'd just said. He'd never struggled this hard with a woman before but it was like surfing against the tide with Connie, she was hard to read and difficult to deal with at the best of times.

"Thanks, but I think I'll pass."

"Maybe next time." He smiled embarrassedly, turning to leave.

"Don't forget, I want to see you here bright and early Mr Strachan."

"Of course." He carried on smiling and closed her door. That went even better than he'd hoped. His facial muscles were aching by the time he got to Chrissie but she on the other hand looked like she'd been slapped with a wet fish.

"There you are! I've been sat waiting here for half an hour, Sam."

"Sorry, I took your advice, just patched things up with Mrs Beauchamp and miraculously, I think it worked?"

"Well, that's cause for celebration then! Shall I get some drinks in?"

"What do you think?" He asked with a smirk. He could knuckle down _and_ still have a good time, right?

* * *

A sensible amount of drinks were consumed and smalltalk exchanged before realising the time was 11pm and they were amongst the last few left sitting in the bar.

"You are something else, do you know that Sam Strachan?" She laughed flirtily before biting her lip.

"What happened to him?"

"Who?" She squinted in a puzzled fashion.

"Will Curtis? The guy before me? Nobody talks about it."

"He was killed." She finally answered after a moments pause. "In an accident. Everyone was pretty cut up about it, he was a good guy." She sipped her drink, wanting to move on from the sad topic.

"Did it hit Connie hard?"

"Yeah." She scoffed. "I don't know why, they couldn't stand each other."

"You said they slept together?" He looked utterly confused.

"Just because they had sex doesn't mean they liked each other." She laughed. "You're such a ladies man but you are so naive, Mr Strachan. Besides, they'd had some huge fallout before he died, his wife publicly accosted Connie at the funeral. I've never seen her back away from confrontation before until that day."

"Do you think she feels guilty?"

"I don't know, Sam!" She looked at him in disbelief. "Why don't you ask her tomorrow? God." She stood up and grabbed her coat. "What is your obsession with her?"

"What?" His smiled faded, not understanding what was going on right now. Was she angry with him? With Connie at least things were black and white in terms of her being angry or happy but Chrissie was more the petty, passive-aggressive type.

"You've done nothing but ask questions about her all night, I'm fed up." Shaking her head lightly, she picked her bag up too. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Chrissie? Chrissie wait!" It was no use, she'd already reached the door and was well on her way. The women in Holby were really trying him so far.

* * *

Over the next couple of days their working relationship seemed to blossom nicely. He'd come to terms with the fact that the hospital and Connie's ward weren't a playground and she'd come to realise that Sam was never going to be Will Curtis and he shouldn't be punished for that. Instead she distracted herself with him, setting him targets and challenges, pitting him against Joseph but only in a healthy competitive fashion of course. His bedside manner was a lot better than Will's that's for sure and he wasn't quite as arrogant but still had a hint of cockiness about him. Normally she hated that but it seemed to work for him.

"I'm impressed, Mr Strachan." She smiled over her folded arms. He was fitting a chest drain, and quite nicely too.

"All down to you, Mrs Beauchamp. He's been trained by the best." Mr Calfe, their patient, stated kindly, causing Sam to glance back at her with a smirk.

"What can I say, Mr Calfe?" He asked, never breaking eye contact with Connie. "She really knows how to handle me."

"You and me both." He chortled loudly before it turned into a coughing fit, wiping the smiles off both of their faces. Rushing to the opposite side to where Sam was, Connie raised the bed so he was more upright.

"Alright, take it easy." She cooed calmly, fixing the oxygen mask over his face. The coughs subsided almost instantly. Looking over at him she caught his gaze on her still. He couldn't understand how she could go from one extreme to the other. One minute she'd be tearing shreds out of someone, mostly himself, then minutes later she could be this caring and sensitive person with a soft voice. She was being a lot more lenient with him since their bust up but that didn't mean she wasn't still barking at him on the odd occasion. For the most part though, they were starting to form a good understanding of one another, almost like two mismatched jigsaw pieces becoming altered to fit one another. They weren't all the way there yet but they were making good progress.

She was still in an emotional, grief-stricken dilemma though. The moment she stopped focussing on him, her thoughts would be catapulted back to Will and she whole-heartedly couldn't cope with it anymore. It was eating away at her. This meant that every moment of every day she was concentrated on Sam and today was no different. It was late afternoon and she'd been hunting him down for the last hour, when she finally found him he was laying on the settee in his scrubs. As soon as she opened the door he sat bolt upright, shocked from his slumber.

"Sorry, I didn't realise-"

"No, no it's fine." He mumbled with a yawn. "Am I needed in theater?"

"Not quite." She started and moved further into the room, closing the door before she did so. "I've found a couple more journal articles you might find useful." She moved her hand slightly, the massive stack of papers in her grip gaining his attention. He didn't intend to physically show his disappointment but she clocked it straight away. "What happened to wanting to knuckle down?"

"I was, I mean I _am_ knuckling down. I just-"

" _Just_ what, Mr Strachan?" She growled, the words dripping with venom. He was so confused about her anger. He'd already read through twenty-three articles over the last day and half, he couldn't face anymore today. On top of his practical work, he was exhausted.

"Hang on a minute." He laughed slightly, not entirely sure if she was being serious. Getting to his feet he felt a lot less inferior looking down at her as opposed to her looking down at him on the settee. "It's Friday night-"

"Oh right." She put her hands on her hips, laughing humourlessly. "I forgot, it's the weekend. Nobody needs medical professionals for the next couple of days." Her sarcasm rubbed him entirely the wrong way.

"I just think you're overloading me a bit, you know?" He laughed in confusion. "Joseph doesn't have to-"

"Joseph isn't _my_ registrar, _you're_ my registrar."

"Yeah, and I'm just saying this is too much work. I'm knackered, I hardly slept a wink last night."

"You know, Mr Curtis never had an issue with extra readings-"

"And from what I've heard you more or less killed him!" Before he could even begin to regret his angry outburst, the palm of her hand came into contact with his face with some force. The slap was sharp and held a lot of anger behind it.

"Okay." She breathed shakily, regret taking over her mentality. "I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry." For the first time, he was seeing her at her most genuine but he still wasn't having it.

"Yeah, so am I." He huffed, taking a step back and heading for the door. "Sorry that I thought this would actually work. I'll tend to my resignation first thing in the morning." Pulling the door open, it closed again quickly as she slammed it shut.

"No. No you won't." She couldn't be sure if it was her fear of being investigated on bullying accusations again or her fear of losing him, her distraction from grief, that motivated her actions more. The pair stood silently and motionlessly, the air around them fraught with all kinds of tension. They were so close to one another, their eyes flickering across each others gaze and before she could comprehend what was going on he dived towards her quickly, his lips finding hers with ease as she moved hungrily into him too, the lust and want taking over both of them. Her hands moved up to cup the sides of his face whilst their tongues wrestled, she could feel his hands gripping her hips firmly, pulling her even closer to him as he walked her backwards to the table. His rough handedness caused her to moan slightly into his mouth. There was nothing passionate or loving about this embrace, it was purely lustful and entirely sexually charged.

If they felt pangs of regret before, they'd surely be feeling them even more intensely tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

***I'm really loving writing this fic, purely for all the old names and faces! A few people have asked and got a little confused about the characters and the time frame. I know Will was before Michael Beauchamp and Sam Strachan's time but I've switched things up a bit so upon Will's passing, Sam has entered the picture and you're to assume that Michael was sent down whilst Will was still alive but before he and Connie began having an affair. i hope that isn't too confusing? If you have any questions feel free to DM me on twitter :) Enjoy and please review! XX***

"Hang on a minute." He whispered in a hushed manner, grabbing her upper arm softly. "Why are you so angry at me?"

"I'm not." Huffing for a brief moment she pulled her arm from his grip. "Now will you _please_ drop it?" Her eyes darted around quickly, paranoid about anyone watching on. The ward was busy but everyone's focus was anywhere but on them, thankfully.

"Okay, so what?" His facial expression wrinkled up with confusion. "You're saying last week was a mistake? If anything, I'm the one who should be angry, you've hardly spoken to me since, you've just shut me out completely-"

"Yes!" Hissing furiously, she took a moment to collect herself. "Yes, it was a mistake and it shouldn't have happened. Okay? So can we just drop it now?"

"Connie-" He called out pleadingly as she brushed past him, quickly regretting his choice of name when she turned around with speed.

" _Mrs Beauchamp_." Correcting him promptly he could only roll his eyes with frustration.

"I-"

"No!" Cutting him off before he could even get another word in, she spoke harshly through gritted teeth. He was relentless. "I mean it, Mr Strachan." Her words were hushed and urgent. "What happened between us was a _mistake_ , it never should have happened and it will _never_ be repeated. Do you understand?"

"How can-"

" _Do you understand?!"_ Repeating her angry question once more she received silence from him, one that she interpreted as him finally getting the picture before she stormed off, her mood stressed and her temper on fire. Slamming her office door behind herself she exhaled sharply, her emotions threatening to get the best of her but she wouldn't allow it.

She felt sick. How could she have let herself become involved with someone else? Her heart was aching with regret and guilt. She felt as though she'd betrayed him, even though he was no longer here. How long was this going to go on for? Sitting down at her desk she decided to give herself a couple of moments to breathe and refocus herself. It _was_ a mistake. She felt absolutely nothing for Sam Strachan, she merely had a moment of weakness and he was there. That's all it was. Resting her head in her hands, her elbows took the strain of the weight on her desk-top. Her five minutes of alone time were extremely short-lived.

"Ah, Connie." Elliot beamed as he entered the office, closing the door awkwardly behind himself. "Just the person I've been looking for."

"Yes, who knew of all places I'd be sat in my own office working." Her dry and sarcastic tone matched with her pale face and tired expression signalled to him that she was in no mood for an upbeat conversation.

"You look like you haven't slept." He stated worriedly whilst moving further into the small office space, setting all of his papers and satchel down on his messy desk.

"That's because I haven't." She intended to leave it there but his lack of response invited her to glance at him briefly before elaborating on her short sentence. "It's Michael's trial today." The gravelly tone of her voice instilled a sad feeling within him. His friend was in some sort of pain, a pain she wouldn't admit to or talk about and it was really bothering him. He wanted to help her but she wouldn't let him in.

"Of course." He breathed. "I completely forgot, sorry." His eyes flickered between his pile of papers and his sickly looking colleague. "Are you going? I can go with you, if you like?"

"No need." She smiled as best she could. "I'm not going, he got himself into this mess and dragged me into it too so he can deal with it on his own." Her answers were cold and unforgiving, leaving him in a position where he felt he could say no more. So he didn't. Instead he proceeded to sit down and open up a sausage roll he'd picked up from Greggs that morning, much to Connie's disgust.

"There is something else I was meant to discuss with you, actually." He shattered the silence, speaking with his mouth full. Noticing her repulsed expression he held his hand up, finished what he was chewing and began again. As soon as he'd sat down she knew something was brewing on his mind and he was about to spit it out. "Apparently Susan still hasn't come to clear out Will's locker and, well...It's been six weeks since he passed and the locker is needed." His reason for bringing it up was to ask her if she wanted to do it but since she hadn't interjected he panicked and started backtracking, especially noting her lack of reaction. "Perhaps I'll get one of the porters to-"

"No." Finally, she spoke up. "I'll do it, give me the key." Her face never changed once as she rose up from her seat.

"Anything personal like photographs and such will be posted out to his family-"

"I know the drill, Elliot." She was struggling to keep a rein on her emotions, causing her to become impatient and without another peep he handed the key to her delicately.

* * *

She waited for the few people occupying the locker room to leave before approaching his green dented locker. The lump in her throat grew bigger and more painful with each passing moment until finally she peeled the door open carefully. Her eyes stung with despair, on the inside of the door he had photos of his two children and wife, Susan. He looked so happy with them. Biting her lip in anguish she studied his face closely, running her index finger over the glossy image before the other contents of his locker distracted her. His green on-call fleece was folded neatly, an old army habit no doubt, and next to it lay some papers and an envelope. Pulling the clothing item out slowly her heart felt heavy, it smelled so strongly of him that if she were to close her eyes he could almost be in the room next to her. She only became aware of her cool tears when she held the fleece up to her face, burying her senses in it, the comfort it gave her was second to none. Other than his person of course, which was something she'd never encounter again. Sniffling lightly, she used her own sleeve to wipe at her tears before folding his fleece under her arm. There was no way she was letting go of that. Glancing back at the remaining items her brow furrowed as she focused on the envelope. It was addressed so Susan. She hesitated for only a fraction of a second before picking it up, it was unsealed and thus easy to open and read. Her eyes flicked quickly over his careful, hand-written words, her body tensed with shock. He was going to leave Susan. He'd penned it all out. His wife, kids and home. He was going to give all of that up for _her_? She didn't even have time to grieve about this revelation before the squeaking of the door hinges alerted her to someone entering. And of course it was Sam Strachan. Sniffing loudly she crumpled the letter back into it's envelope and shoved it into her pocket, grabbing the last of the items before turning around. Although she attempted to hide it, he could visibly see she'd been upset.

"Is everything...okay?"

"Fine, fine." She lowered her head, avoiding his gaze as she moved to the door in a desperate attempt to escape.

"Alright." He paused, not believing her answer. "Well, our theatre slot has been pulled forward, we're scrubbing up in ten minutes."

"Right, thank you."

"Are you sure you're alright? If this was because of me, I-" Her humourless laugh broke his sentence.

"Believe it or not, Sam, not everything is about _you_." She made eye contact with him for only a millisecond before sniffling again and turning back to the door to leave, he could tell being seen in this vulnerable state was uncomfortable for her. As soon as the door closed behind her he was left standing lost for words under the flickering light of the locker room.

He was completely dumbfounded. He'd gone over everything in his head what must have been a hundred times and he _still_ couldn't pin what he'd done to piss her off? Regardless, he was going to keep mulling it over until he came to a conclusion. His face was wrinkled, deep in thought as he opened up his own locker when it came to his attention. Connie didn't have nor did she need a locker, so why was she down here? He glanced behind him to be sure she had really gone, she had the stealth of a cat sometimes the way she could appear without a sound. Closing the small metal door she'd been stood at, the realisation smacked him in the face. The words on the door read clear as day _Will Curtis_.

* * *

"She giving you the cold shoulder?" Chrissie sang, a small smile appearing on her face. After a sincere apology last week she and Sam were back on speaking terms again and hopefully they'd rekindle what they had going romantically. She'd just witnessed him jogging after Connie with her blatantly ignoring him at first, before brushing him off as she moved into her office and more or less closed the door in his face. He'd approached the nurses station looking defeated and annoyed, prompting her to get the details on their fallout.

"She says I give _her_ a headache but I swear to God, trying to keep up with her mood from minute to minute is a headache in itself." He leant on the desk and rubbed his hands over his face tiredly, messing his hair up in the process but he didn't care anymore.

"I wouldn't take it personally, she's like that with everyone." She moved over to the computer, logging in some notes as she continued to speak to the dishevelled looking registrar. "Mind you, if my husband was on trial today I'd be biting everyones head off as well."

"What?" He stopped rolling his neck and looked up at her back, waiting for her to turn and face him.

"Michael?" She raised her brow moving over to him again. "It's his trial today, I mean, she obviously isn't going but it's got to be playing on her mind." her attention was drawn to Connie's office door, as if she could see through it. "I don't particularly like the woman, but it's not something you wish upon anyone is it?"

"That amongst other things would explain her prickly personality today." He sighed frustratedly.

"Sorry, am I missing something here?" Her face was distorted with irritation. "It's just I've been talking to you all morning about my Mum and her health problems and all you've been able to talk about is Connie's mood?"

"No, no." He grabbed her hand softly. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to, I just..." He stopped to arrange his thoughts and words carefully. "She's my boss, my career matters to me and it's a little hard to do well when I've got an emotionally hostile, ball-breaking superior."

"Well." She smiled, falling under his spell once again. "Maybe we should go out for dinner tonight, take your mind off her?" The smile faded quickly upon noticing his winced expression.

"I can't, not tonight, I'm sorry. But tomorrow night, I'm all yours."

"I guess I can deal with that." She kissed him quickly and discreetly. "Now look busy, the ball-breaker's heading this way." Her whisper diminished as she moved away from him in order to avoid Connie's wrath.

"Mr Strachan."

"Mrs Beauchamp." He turned on the spot at her barked words, looking down at her petite yet angry frame.

"Mr Byrne will be heading into theatre in place of me this afternoon. I want you to prep him with everything he needs to know, okay?" She turned on her heel to leave but once more he grabbed her forearm gently. Overstepping the mark again. Behind him Chrissie was watching diligently, she _knew_ something was going on between them and their current interaction just proved it.

"Woah, wait a minute." He let her out of his soft grip as soon as he clocked the anger in her face. " _Mr Byrne?_ As in Joseph Byrne?"

"He's the only Mr Byrne on this ward isn't he?"

"Well, yes but-"

"Right, well I'm glad we got that cleared up." She began walking away from him again, rolling her eyes when she heard him hot on her tail. She'd been allowing herself ten to fifteen minute intervals of alone time to keep her emotions in check but Sam was really testing her.

"This is a complex procedure, Mrs Beauchamp and you're just going to let Mr Byrne lead?"

"I'm well aware of the complexity, Mr Strachan and in what part of my sentence did you hear me say Mr Byrne was leading?" They continued moving through the ward corridors, her uninterested voice chiming in well with the repetitive clicks of her heels.

"So what, I'm leading? You're just going to-"

"Look." She stopped bitterly, finally reaching a secluded and quiet stairwell, the windows surrounding them looking out over the hospital car park. "Yourself and Mr Byrne are _more_ than qualified to perform this operation _as a team_ , okay? Mr Hope is on standby and you page him if you need him. Now, I'm late, so if you've finished with your one hundred and one questions, I'm leaving." She made a start on the stairs, her handbag firm in her grasp.

"That's right, it's Michael's trial today isn't it?" He had no idea why he said it but he was instantly regretting his actions. It was as if he'd just poured petrol over an already raging fire.

"That is _none_ of your business, Mr Strachan." She'd halted immediately on the step she was on, her temper flaring. Who did he think he was? He'd slept with her twice in the space of one week and felt he had the authority to question her movements now? Not on her watch. "It's enough that you question my professional judgement in theatre the way you do but what you _won't_ do is question me about my personal affairs."

"Personal affairs? What, you mean like cleaning out your dead registrar's locker this morning?" He couldn't stop himself, his anger and frustration were controlling his verbal responses and even though he knew he was digging his own grave, he could not for the life of him restrain the words from escaping his mouth. He knew he'd just crossed the line judging by her reaction, or lack of. She'd turned around after her last response, her back was still facing him but he could feel the malice in her posture.

"I'll deal with you when I get back." Her whisper was malevolent in nature, causing him to shudder slightly. What had he just got himself into?

Initially, she'd meant what she said to Elliot. She hadn't planned on going to Michael's trial but there was a niggling thought at the back of her mind telling her to go, to maybe get closure and be rid of him for good regardless of the trial outcome. In a sense, it did feel like it took one load of negativity off of her shoulders. He'd spotted her in the court room, a sorry and pathetic look on his face as he mouthed he was sorry. She wanted to hate him but all those years of marriage _did_ mean something to her, no matter how it had ended. It was well and truly over though, he was sentenced to three years in prison for his fraudulent behaviour. The look they shared as he was taken away out of sight was a slightly peaceful one, a forgiving one. The event in itself felt like she'd blown out some cobwebs from her mind, one less thing to be playing on her thoughts at night and one less thing to drink about after work.

* * *

"How did it go?" Elliot asked delicately after she entered their office. His glasses shining in the light of the desk lamps. Darkness had ascended upon Holby again as the evening stars lit up the sky and the city lights flickered on the ground below.

"Three years."

"That was to be expected I guess." He exhaled. "More to the point, how are you doing?"

"I'm _fine,_ Elliot." She huffed. "Honestly, I'd be a lot better if people stopped treating me like I was some fragile husk. He messed up, he's gone to prison, now I have to pick up the pieces. That's how it goes." She slumped into her chair and switched her computer screen back on whilst Elliot searched for something to say.

"I wasn't just referring to Michael, Connie." He waited for her to jump in with another angry snap but she didn't. "You cleared out Will's locker this morning, Sam said he saw you. Where's his stuff?" He asked cautiously.

"Oh, please." She growled with a venomous expression as she tore open the top drawer of her desk. Elliot flinched at her sudden movements, she really was a ticking time bomb at the moment. "What? Did you think I was going to keep it? Refuse Susan the right to his things? Here." She pulled out the photos and papers he had in his locker. "That's it." She lied, hoping Sam hadn't detailed exactly what she'd taken from the locker. "That's all he had in there, some poxy photographs and medical journal print outs. Happy?"

"Connie-"

"No, you know what I've got a meeting to get to." She stood up quickly, grabbing the files she needed. "I'll be a while so don't wait for me, I'll see you tomorrow."

He couldn't add anymore, nor did he particularly want to. Everything he was saying seemed to just anger her more and for the first time in their friendship he was at a loss as to what he should or could do to help her.

On her way back to the hospital she'd paged Sam, instructing him to meet her in an empty board room upstairs at six o'clock. Glancing at her watch as she marched through the halls she was right on time. To her surprise, he was already waiting inside. She'd half expected him to be late, or right on the dot which was usually the case with him.

"You wanted to see me?" He questioned starkly, fully prepared for the worst. He was sat remarkably relaxed at the large meeting table, watching her as she closed the door and entered, coming to a stop when she leant on the opposite side of the table to him.

"Glad you could make it, I don't quite know where to begin but how about we start with your behaviour this mor-"

"You know what? No." He butted in with a careless smile on his face. "No, how about we start with _your_ behaviour, Mrs Beauchamp?" Blinking with accomplishment at how he'd startled her, he went on to continue. "Is it your usual practice to berate, belittle and bully your staff? Hm? What about having sex with them? Or even physically assaulting them?" He faked a confused look as he got to his feet. "Or were the last two just special treatments for myself and the late Mr Curtis-"

"Don't you dare." Her sharp tone sliced through his words smoothly, a crack in her voice caused his brow to twitch with what surprised him as sympathy. This Will Curtis figure really touched a raw nerve with her.

"It's true though, isn't it? That's how you work." He shook his head but eased off suddenly upon noticing that she wasn't biting back for once. This really wasn't how he was hoping this would go, she was supposed to be fiery and sparring with him but she was silent and staring down at the shiny table top. To his shock, she pulled the chair out and sat down with long and shaky breath.

"It worked with Will." She muttered softly. "I mean, he was arrogant and cocky like yourself but he lacked the social skills you're so _blessed_ with." Her eyes flickered up to meet with his for only a moment before she looked down again. He could see a pain in her eyes and now felt utterly awful, prompting him to huff and retake his seat again, balancing out their wavelength. He'd spent the last couple of hours mentally bigging himself up to call her out and tear her down but he wasn't as talented as her in that department, his conscience was too present. "He needed to be pushed, that's what he thrived on. He was ex-army, being commanded was normality for him."

"Look, I didn't mean what I said last week-" His words came gushing out like a damn had broken on a fast flowing river, indicating to her that his previous performance was just that. A performance.

"No, no." She stopped him. "It _is_ my fault."

"I heard it was an accident, everybody has said so. I was just lashing out. "

"It wasn't. He was targeted and killed." She quickly shook her head feeling the familiar sensation of tears threatening to fall. She'd shared enough and wanted to change the subject instantly. "Anyway, I'm the one that should be apologising, so, I'm sorry. Not just for the slap or the constant nagging but for what happened last week as well. I had a moment of weakness and I shouldn't have let it go as far as it did."

"Thank you." His genuine words, made her force a smile before she continued.

"It's been a crazy few months, work is how I take my mind off things so I apologise if I come off as overbearing or harsh at times. I uh, I'll make a conscious effort from now on, that's if you're happy to keep those things to yourse-"

"Don't worry, I was never going to take this any further." He admitted sheepishly after interrupting. "I just wanted you to see things from my end maybe be aware of how you are towards me. I feel like I'm in a minefield sometimes, too afraid to take a step but too afraid to stay in the same place, you know?"

"I understand." She nodded, folding her lips together as she got to her feet. "Good work on that procedure today too by the way." She stopped in the doorway, turning to praise him. "I heard you did an outstanding job."

"Thanks, couldn't have done it without Joseph though. We made a good team." He stood up too, readying himself to leave as he moved towards the doorway as well. "Personally I think you and I make a better team, if you want-"

"No, thank you Mr Strachan." She couldn't help but smile at his efforts to get her back into bed, she knew he was joking though and decided to be grateful that at least one person in this place wasn't treating her any different because of recent circumstances in her life.

"It was worth a try." He laughed mischievously before turning a little more serious in the corridor, they were both headed in separate directions but not before he could get one last line in. "I didn't tell Mr Hope about the jumper either, the one you took from Will's locker. I saw it in your bag when you left this morning." Her face softened considerably. "He really meant something to you, didn't he?" There was a timely silence before she opened her mouth again, her voice the most subdued he'd ever heard it.

"Goodnight, Mr Strachan." She offered him a small smile before walking away down the corridor. Her heart heavy and her mind still plagued with guilt and sorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

***Thanks so much for the reviews on this fic, I've really enjoyed writing this one with all the old faces but with the lack of interest I decided to put it on the back-burner whilst I concentrated on 'Dirty Secrets'. In the last couple of though I've had a few people asking me to update so here we are! I hope you enjoy and please review, it's how I determine whether or not people are liking the fic :) XX***

She was becoming more and more aware that people were avoiding her on the ward. She'd already been through bullying allegations before and certainly didn't need to have her name tarred again, especially since Michael had recently tainted the name 'Beauchamp' in the most extraordinary and criminal way possible. No, she had to protect her status and pull herself together. She'd already lost her secret lover, her job was the only thing she had, she couldn't lose that as well even at the expense of her mourning. Making more of an effort, she stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, her green scrubs making her complexion look even more washed out and exhausted than she really was. She had to suck it up and act chummy with everyone today, no matter how much it grated on her. Hearing voices approaching she blinked slowly, pushing herself away from the sink as she squeezed past the nurses entering.

"Ah, Mrs Beauchamp." She held back an eye-roll at the sound of Joseph's voice, turning to smile at him as convincingly as she could, judging by his expression, he could see straight through her facade, the bags under her eyes were concealed but still visible within close proximity.

"Mr Byrne, what can I help you with?"

"A patient recently admitted is requesting to be seen by you, and only you." His speech was stilted, it was almost a nervous thing but regardless it irritated her.

"Right." She turned and continued walking, inviting him to follow. "Tell them I'll be with them as soon as possible."

"Well, that's the thing you see." He stammered. "It's a child and I'm not sure we should leave them waiting? His Mother is quite...agitated to say the least." He winced at her irate sigh as she swung her stethoscope around her neck, catching sight of Sam as she turned back around around to face Joseph.

"Mr Strachan, whenever you're ready." Demanding him into action without actually having to ask him, he more or less threw his stuff down and was marching behind her within seconds.

"He hasn't been a patient here before but his Mother seems to know you fairly well." He guided the way as Connie and Sam followed, Sam was trying to straighten his tie and Connie was focussed on her watch as she tried to correct the time on it. "Here we are." He used the hand sanitiser on the end of the bed, his body language stiffening upon the tension he suddenly felt around him.

"Connie." The fatigued and heavily pregnant Mother addressed her coldly, causing Sam to glance to his side at Connie before looking at this woman and finally to Joseph, whose facial expression matched his own right now. Pure confusion and even a little bit of concern.

"Susan." She choked her name out, quickly licking her upper lip and glimpsing briefly at the child in the bed. Her throat felt like it had closed up. Stepping backwards, she held her hands out a fraction and shook her head. "I can't treat-"

"You _will_ treat him. It's the _least_ you can do, don't you think?" She snarled maliciously, her lip curling with each word spoken. Although he and Connie were at odds 70% of the time, Sam couldn't help but feel slightly protective of her. Almost the same way bees in a hive rush to the aid of their queen, this was a similar situation. He could see, even _feel_ that Connie was beyond uncomfortable right now for whatever reason, and he wanted to diffuse the situation. From what he could gather about Connie, she was a known ball-breaker but this situation with her previous registrar passing away had caused her to become even more steely, he could only assume she was going through something deeply painful.

"My name is Sam Strachan, I'm Mrs Beauchamp's registrar-" He stepped forward, introducing himself whilst simultaneously shielding Connie from the angry stare of this woman, Connie winced knowing he'd just made the whole situation worse. With Sam concealing her, she blurred everything out around herself, reaching her hand up and massaging her forehead briefly she tried to calmly breathe away this light-headed feeling before quickly stepping back into the firing line upon hearing raised voices. Unbeknownst to her, Joseph had been monitoring her behaviour.

"Oh right." She nodded, becoming extremely tearful much to Sam's confusion. "So _you're_ the replacement?"

"I'm sorry?" He squinted as he began his apology, going to say her name but realised he hadn't even caught her name from Joseph, who was completely useless in a hostile confrontation and was now stood silently on the other side of Connie.

"Susan, it's fine." Connie stated, holding her arm in front of Sam, wordlessly asking him to back down. "I'll treat your son-"

"Will's son." She spat emotionally causing Sam to blink slowly with realisation. This was Will Curtis' wife and child, the dead registrar he'd replaced. "He's been having panic attacks and asthma attacks ever since we lost him." Her lip quivered as she grabbed her child's hand, attempting to hold back the tears for her sake. Connie's chest was in turmoil, she felt like her airways were compromised, like she couldn't breathe. She could hear her heart beating in her ears before Sam's far away voice got louder and louder, snapping her back to the moment.

"Yes, Mr Strachan, sorry. I can take it from here. You can assist Mr Hope in theater, Joseph take over with Mr Langford please." They knew not to hang around and invite her to have to repeat herself. Instead they obeyed silently and went their separate ways. As soon as they were out of earshot she got into it. "I'll asses your d-"

"His name is Thomas." She interjected icily not even looking her way anymore, she fixed her gaze on her son rubbing his hand gently as he lay asleep in the bed. "This is all the aftermath of losing his Dad, it's broken his heart. Broken _my_ heart." She was crying now, much to Connie's discomfort as she herself was fighting her own emotions, contemplating her own loss and feeling guilty for even experiencing grief when this fatherless child lay before her. She couldn't even look at them.

"I'll page Mr Hope, he's an excellent surgeon-" Susan's cold laugh choked through her tears, cutting Connie's fragile voice off quickly.

"I haven't requested you because I don't trust anyone else, I know you're good at what you do but I've requested you so that you can witness the damage _you_ have caused to this family! This is all down to _you_ and I want you to know the pain you've caused." Connie's mouth was completely dry, her head spinning quickly as she blinked, attempting to keep her tears from falling. SO far she was doing well.

"It's a conflict of interest, I can't, I'm sorry." Fighting a losing battle with her emotions, she turned quickly to leave, the tears rolling down her cheeks as she walked swiftly towards her office. Although she tried to travel there unseen, almost everyone turned to look at her as she moved through the wards. She didn't fully let go until she was in the security of her own office, the quiet protectiveness it offered allowed her to weep in peace. Her heart was physically in pain, to the point where she felt nauseated. Her moment of alone time was short-lived as Elliot came bursting through the door, closing it behind him to conceal her fragile state. She had her back to him, staring out of the window as she hurriedly tried to harness her outward sorrow.

"Connie." He began softly. "Mr Strachan alerted to me to Susan's visit-"

"It's fine." She sniffled, wiping at her eyes angrily. She was so tired of feeling like this, so tired of feeling tired, so tired of holding back her sadness when all she wanted to do was cry and cry and cry. She exhaled shakily, closing her eyes as she tilted her head back but as soon as she thought she'd got a hold of herself, Elliot placed a caring hand on her back and set her off again. What the hell was going on with her? In herself, she knew she was grieving but she'd never experienced this before. She couldn't function, she wasn't eating properly, she felt _numb_ not only physically but mentally too. Elliot was deeply concerned, he'd never seen her like this before, he was honestly at a loss as to what to do. She remained where she was but faced away from him, embarrassed that he was witnessing this apparent breakdown she was having.

"Connie." He cooed, rubbing her back. Instead of overthinking the situation, he decided to treat her as though this was Martha, his daughter. Rubbing her back soothingly he remained silent for a couple of minutes, hurting with every one of her sharp intakes of air before speaking peacefully. "You can deny it all you want, I know there was something between you and Will, it wasn't obvious at the time but I can see how this is affecting you." He paused to think carefully about his next words, so far she hadn't interrupted him indicating that he was possibly right. In his heart he knew he was. "You're tired, you're not sleeping, you look exhausted. And don't think I haven't seen you crying when nobody's looking, because I have. Every day, Connie." She still wouldn't look at him. So far he'd hit every nail on the head.

"Mr Hope." Sam's voice came thundering through the office door as he whipped it open, patient file in hand as he read and walked at the same time. "We're getting Mrs Johnson prepped-" He looked up and ceased speaking immediately, seeing Elliot remove his hand from her back, he appeared slightly irked at the interruption. Connie had inched away as soon as she heard the door open, quickly forcing herself to get it together. Sam saw her body shudder though, one of those awful crying after shocks, he knew the one. "Sorry, I didn't realise-"

"It's fine, Mr Strachan." He huffed, giving him a stern look. "We best get to it then, come on." Forcing him backwards out of the room he did it in such a speed in order to spare Connie her dignity. Before Sam could even get a word in he found himself back in the corridor, closed out and stood face to face with Elliot.

"I'm taking over with Mrs Curtis and her son, you can assist Mrs Beauchamp in theatre with Mrs Johnson when she's ready." He looked Sam dead in the eye over his glasses as he spoke, carefully tucking his patient files under one arm.

"Is Con-Mrs Beauchamp okay?" Correcting himself promptly, he licked his lips hoping Elliot hadn't picked up on the first name use.

"Not that it's any of your business, Mr Strachan but yes, she's fine. Now go and get scrubbed up, Mrs Beauchamp will see you in theatre." He put his boss hat on and set the registrar to work before contemplating his next move. He honestly wasn't sure if Connie was fit to be at work, she didn't even seem as though she was on the planet. Sighing deeply, he removed his glasses and let them hang loosely around his neck on their chain. He took a moment to count to 3 in his head before re-entering their office, he was going to have to take a firm approach with her, as much as she was going to push against him he'd have to hold his ground for her sake. "Right, change of plan." His opening statement was strong, there were a couple of cracks in his voice but he wasn't off to a bad start. "You'll be performing Mrs Johnsons valve repair with Mr Strachan and I'm taking over with Susan Curtis and her son." He was speaking loud and fast, a look of panic on his face upon finishing but his body relaxed when she still hadn't uttered a word.

"Thank you." She breathed quietly. Standing up slowly she ignored his shocked face.

"Right, okay, good." Nodding with a tiny smile he caught her in the doorway, giving her arm a supportive squeeze. "Things will get better, Connie. I promise." She merely blinked tiredly at his warm offering of kind words causing his heart to drop sadly. He really couldn't do anything to ease her pain or sadness. It was a waiting game.

* * *

 _"I should go, it's getting late." He set his glass down on the washing machine. There was about thirty staff members crammed into Lisa's tiny flat, the team were celebrating Ric's 50th party and the speeches had just finished._

 _"It's eight o'clock." She smirked, reaching up to adjust his shirt collar. "Don't tell me you like to be in bed by ten, Mr Curtis." His breath caught in his throat, she'd pressed herself so close to him in order to fix his collar that his hands were fighting the urge to find their way to her waist. The dress she was wearing was driving him wild. It was peachy pink, silk, sleek, figure hugging and my did it accentuate her physical beauty. The back of it was completely open, her smooth skin on show and visible to all, which in all honesty was bothering him slightly._

 _"No, actually I like to say goodnight to the boys before they go to bed." He cleared his throat attempting to centre himself. They were in view of hospital staff and he was fully aware of that, he couldn't keep his urges in check though. He'd been feeling a type of way towards her for a while now. Admittedly, it took him a fair few weeks to get used to a female ordering him around, but having got past that he could feel himself gravitating towards her regardless of the fact that he was married and so was she. There had been plenty of hints thrown at him, or so he'd concluded and tonight was the final straw. This dress and her flirty behaviour had him caught, hook, line and sinker._

 _"And Mrs Curtis?" She enquired dangerously._

 _"Yes." He smiled, his eyes rolled over her facial features in the dimly lit room. The music was growing louder and the banter more rowdy, allowing him to feel less conscious of anyone paying attention to them. "She'll be waiting for me too." He ran his hand down her arm softly, removing her grip from his jacket as he finally pushed himself away from the kitchen counter. "I've gotta go, l'll see you tomorrow." Allowing the palm of his hand to drag along her front as he walked away, that was the only cue she needed. Watching him disappear through the hallway, she counted to ten as she glanced around the room, everyone was enjoying themselves and completely oblivious to their actions. Smiling to herself as she reached ten, she sauntered off in the direction he'd headed. Her dress clinging to her figure beautifully as she moved through the small flat hallways, craning her neck in the direction of each doorway until she found him. Coming to a standstill she leant seductively against the frame, a look of pure desire marking her face._

 _"Well." He started. "Close the door then." She wasn't normally the obedient type but she'd been lusting after this moment for long enough._

 _Entering the room slowly, she closed the door behind herself and remained with her back up against it. Her eyes dark with passion as he approached her hungrily, his wife and children removed from his mind completely. If there were any remaining afterthought there, they were wiped now as he locked lips with her. Finally tasting her as his palms felt at her sides, gripping her desperately. Her own hands had automatically moved to his face and neck, guiding him as their tongues were acquainted for the first time. He'd pushed himself so close to her that she was now pinned between his muscular body a_ _nd the wooden door behind her, the music was still blaring beyond the bedroom walls but it sounded muffled to them._

 _There was a soft thud as she came into contact with the door, her breath hitched at the sensation causing her brows to furrow as he intensified the kiss. His hands had wandered from their initial resting place on her hips, smoothing around to her lower back and gliding upwards finally feeling her warm skin over the open backed dress. She'd almost mirrored his actions, slipping her hands down from his face to his waist as she let them sneak under his suit jacket. He felt so chiselled, so sculpted, even his back felt muscular. Reaching his lower back she bunched his shirt into her fists and tugged gently, pulling it out from his trousers. She wanted more physical contact, more warmth. Freeing his shirt from being tucked in she let her hands up inside, finally feeling his skin._

 _She moaned softly into their liplock which was growing in speed and urgency, her nails digging into his flesh as she pulled him even closer. She couldn't describe the need she had for this. She wanted him as close as possible, needed him as close as possible._

 _Their laboured breaths peaked in volume as somebody tried to open the door from the other side. They were immediately halted in continuing their passionate embrace, their lips detaching instantly with a synchronised gasp. Will swiftly moved his palm to the handle, securing it along with the weight of their bodies pushing up against the door._

 _"Hello?" Donna sang giddily on the other side of the frame, as the pair of them remained in close contact with baited breath. "Hello? Whoever's in there, I need my jacket." She waited for an answer but neither of them could muster a word. "Can you let me in please?" Connie shifted under the pressure he was placing on her body, causing him to become aware of how much he was crushing her. Silently and quickly her put his hand over her mouth and gently guided her into the corner so that when the door would open, she'd be concealed. She flashed him a devilish smile as he signalled for her to be quiet. He had more at stake than she did. A wife, a family. His children. Readying himself, he opened the door quickly._

* * *

Their time in theatre was quiet and fairly awkward to say the least. She didn't like that he'd seen her in such a vulnerable state and he felt like he'd done something wrong, when in fact he'd done absolutely _nothing_ wrong. Thankfully, the procedure wasn't too major and they were finished in good time. For once he decided to try and obey Mr Hope. He was leaving her well alone, she was making it quite obvious that she didn't wish to have anyone harassing her today and so he kept his distance. Of course it wouldn't be a hospital if there didn't happen to be the odd major hiccup at least once a day. Elliot had rushed off to theatre again with Joseph, they were operating on Thomas Curtis, leaving Susan to wait worriedly. She started off outside the theatre room but being almost eight months pregnant, Sam was able to convince her to wait in the private room they'd managed to find for the young boy. Helping her to sit down, he offered her a sympathetic smile but it was greeted with a tearful eye-roll.

"That's all I need." She sniffled, her left hand massaging her bump soothingly.

"What's that?"

"Another sympathetic stare, I can't cope with it. Everywhere I go, everyone I see _knows_ and they give me that same look." Wiping at her tears quickly she turned to look at him, her face looked broken. He'd seen the same look before, on Connie.

"He'll live on through his children." Sam smiled, her face was slightly puzzled as she hadn't informed him of her situation but she soon realised it must have been the talk of the hospital. "I lost my dad when I was younger too, that thought always kind of comforted me. Knowing that a part of him was with me always. It might not be visible to everyone, but in my mannerisms or quirks he shines through in me, I can feel it." He folded his lips together, finally feeling like he'd achieved something when she smiled emotionally, her right hand now resting on her bump too. "Is it a boy or a girl?" Changing the subject to a happier one he tried to distract her as best as possible.

"Will wanted a girl, he was _desperate_ for this one to be his daughter. After two boys he wanted a little girl to dote on and protect." Her face almost beamed with just the thought of him. "I haven't found out yet, I don't think I want to." Her brow furrowed as she thought deeply. "We were supposed to be keeping it a surprise, we had a bet on." She laughed genuinely. "Will bet fifty quid it'll be a girl."

"And you think it's a boy?" He smiled.

"I just have a feeling, you know." Her demeanour changed rapidly, sadness washing over her again. "I just wish he was here, Thomas and Ben will at least have memories of him but this little one, whether it's a boy or girl, won't have the foggiest." Her body stiffened as Connie entered the room quietly, just in time to catch the last of Sam's sentence to the grief-stricken woman.

"Then you _keep_ him alive, show her photographs, videos." He shrugged. "Don't let his memory fade, as much as it might hurt you'll at least keep him alive in their memories."

"You think it's a girl too?" She smiled through her tears as Connie glanced down at the ground, feeling extremely uncomfortable under Sam's gaze. For the most of his soft spoken sentence he was staring right at her before switching his focus back to Susan as she looked up at him. He knew.

"I'll confidently put another fifty quid on top of Will's." He smiled warmly, inviting Connie to clench her jaw before blinking back the tears. "Sorry, Mrs Beauchamp did you need me?"

"No." It was a slightly whispered response. Clearing her throat she continued on at a more audible and confident level. "Mr Hope has just paged me." Susan stood up immediately, the panic evident on her face forcing Connie to finish up quickly to avoid stressing the woman. "Everything went smoothly, Thomas is just coming out of theatre now, okay? He's doing really well."

"Oh thank God!" She collapsed back into the chair, one hand on her bump and the other clasped over her mouth as Sam and Connie exchanged a look before their attention was pulled back to her.

"Susan?" Asking cautiously, Connie frowned indicating her worry to Sam. Moving closer to the gasping woman she was met with an upheld hand.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." She panted. "It's just a twinge." Gasping to get her breath back, Connie flicked Sam a look before speaking again.

"Alright, twinge or no twinge I think we should check you over just to be sure-"

"I'm fine!" Becoming aggravated, she made it perfectly clear she wanted Connie nowhere near her, forcing Sam to give it a try.

"Susan, there's no harm in giving you a check over, is there?" There was no response prompting him to look to Connie for instruction. She raised her brows and nodded back in Susan's direction, silently telling him to persevere. "Does that sound like a good idea? She's probably fine but wouldn't you rather be safe than sorry?" His last question seemed to sway her decision, she gave him a small nod and agreed.

Sam proceeded with the ultrasound whilst Connie assisted Joseph in doing a post-op check on Thomas. Elliot had been catapulted back off to theatre again, leaving Connie to babysit the registrars. As much as she wanted to escape the room she had a duty to perform and a job to do so she sucked it up and knuckled down. She couldn't help but eavesdrop on Sam and Susan's conversation as they were all occupying the same room, they'd just added in an extra bed for Thomas.

"See, I told you I was fine." She smiled, feeling calmer upon hearing her baby was okay and it's heartbeat reassured her of this. "But you were right, better to be safe than sorry. Thank you."

"Happy to help." Smiling back at her he pulled the monitor head away from her abdomen and allowed her to wipe the gel off with the paper towels provided. Turning the monitor off he locked eyes with her. "Still insistent on not knowing the sex?"

"I think I've left it long enough now." She sighed with a slightly positive head nod. "I need to know if I'm going to have to buy all new girls clothes or what." Letting a shaky breath out, she looked to Sam with wonder. "Go on, hit me with it."

"Well, let's just say Will and I owe you a hundred quid between us." He laughed heartily. "And to clarify, yes, it's another boy."

"See, a woman knows these things. You can pay up in instalments if it's easier." She laughed quietly before turning serious, grabbing his hand softly. "Thank you, for everything." Their sweet exchange masked Connie's speedy exit, she couldn't breathe in there, her heart was beating what felt like two hundred times a minute. Her mind literally spinning as she made a bee-line for her office. The bout of nausea that hit her wasn't an unfamiliar one, Elliot was right, she was making herself ill but she couldn't stop it. She just wanted to _numb_ it all.

* * *

"You were close to him, weren't you?" His fatigued voice shattered the silence. It was three o'clock in the morning and her quest to numb the agony in her life had led her to not so familiar territory. The hospital bar. Where, not so surprisingly, she'd bumped into Sam after their shift. He knew something was up with her, she'd been acting odd all day at work not to mention the weirdness between herself and Mrs Curtis. He invited himself to sit with her despite the physical and verbal warnings to leave her alone. Once she realised he wouldn't leave her the drinks kept rolling in and now here they were, laying in his bed at three in the morning. He turned to look her way in the dark, pointlessly as he was hardly able to see her.

"Please, don't." Her voice was low, it was almost animalistic in the way she used it to warn him the same way a lioness would warn a lion of it's boundaries even within a pride.

"Or maybe you were in love with him?" His words were soft and cautious but he just had to push it too far every time, forever ignoring her clear warnings. She threw the covers back roughly, causing him to sigh with regret. "Connie, wait." He huffed. "Don't go, it's late."

"I'll get a taxi." Collecting her clothes that were scattered across his bedroom floor she put each one back on as she found it until it was only her heels to retrieve. One by the door and one flung up on to his chest of drawers as they'd been in such a rush to have sex, he attire was all over the place. He didn't say another word, he knew there was no stopping her now and talking more would only further piss her off and that was the _last_ thing he wanted at this hour.

The sex and alcohol were good for numbing the pain but upon sobering up a fraction, the cool air outside hit her like a train. She could feel again and the pain was tenfold. Sam's speech to Susan of keeping Will alive had etched into her mind with strength. She had only feelings to remember, nights of passion they shared and the connection they had. No photos, no visible memories. The only physical thing in her possession was his on call fleece, that she'd kept from his locker along with the letter for Susan. There was no need for her have that or know of their affair now, it'd only cause more pain and suffering and for what? He was gone and they couldn't be together as he'd apparently planned. As for the fleece, she figured it wouldn't be missed and she slept in it every single night just to feel close to him, to smell him.

That's all she had.


	5. Chapter 5

***It's been such a long time, I hope you're all still enjoying this and hopefully you like this next chapter. I've had a few people tell me it's hard to find this fic in the crossover section? Would it be easier if I moved it to just the Holby section? Or just the Casualty section? Please let me know what you think and please review. Because of my laptop issues I was stopping and starting a lot with this chapter so apologies if it's a little drawn out and drags in some spots, I promise the next chapter will be a lot better! Thanks everyone! XX***

 _She breathed in and out calmly, completely relaxed and basking in the moment. His fingertips were moving up and down her bare back gently, the feeling was one she'd never forget. It soothed her instantly and after the day she'd had, it's just what she needed. He was laying behind her as per usual, the sheets covering only their lower halves. Summer nights always had her feeling nostalgic and now she'd forever associate them with this feeling too._

 _"What are you thinking inside that complex head of yours?" His voice was rough but whispered delicately, he didn't move but continued raking his fingertips up and down on the skin of her back._

 _"I'm thinking about how much paperwork I h-"_

 _"No." He interrupted her, moving closer towards her back after ceasing his comforting hand movements. Kissing her shoulder sweetly he moved up her neck and towards her ear, nipping and pecking along the way before coming to a stop at her jawline. "We're not thinking about work this weekend." He whispered, sliding his hand over her hip and down to her thigh under the sheet he allowed it to rest there, his thumb stroking over her skin delicately._

 _"Might be hard considering you're supposed to be working away when really, Mr Curtis, you're in bed with your boss in a deluxe hotel room." She smiled as she turned over to face him. Settling on her back, she watched his eyes move over her bare chest and torso as it almost glittered below the light of the moon._

 _"And god have you put me to work." He smiled back at her, moving in calmly as he kissed her lips this time and she welcomed him warmly, his hand now on her inner thigh. Don't get it twisted, she loved the sex they had with one another but at the same time she craved these more tender moments too, the slower, softer kisses. The delicate hand movements and soothing body contact. She ached for it at the end of a shitty day sometimes. She'd never, ever admit it but he could tell and would act on it. The reason she couldn't tear herself away from him was purely because of this. Michael had no idea how to make her happy, sex was just sex to him. She wasn't close to him by any means, even after a lengthy marriage which was now breaking down around her. Will was gentle with her though, considerate and selfless._

 _Loving._

She woke up with a start, the room was freezing cold and seemed grey in colour compared to the memory dream she'd been startled from. Her back was tingling with the memory of Will's fingers raking up and down her flesh and it made her heart ache. The window was still wide open, she'd opened it before climbing into bed. A hangover technique of hers but it didn't seem to be working so well this morning. Her head was pounding with the distorted memory of leaving Sam's flat last night. She felt like she was flying off the rails, losing a grip of everything in her life. Blinking with fatigue she inhaled sharply, taking in the scent of Will's fleece, she slept in it every night. Even though it caused her more pain upon waking up, her body and senses were tricked into sensing his presence and every single morning she awoke to find him still missing. The fleece was gigantic on her tiny frame, all the better to snuggle into under the duvet. Her eyes felt like they had paper cuts, it was as if she could feel how bloodshot they were. Squinting at her bedside table she saw her phone lighting up and grabbed it angrily. Sam. Four missed calls and it was only 5:03am. Two were from the early hours when she left his place but she was out-cold as soon as her head hit the pillow in her own home. She continued to ignore it, instead watching the screen as it vibrated in her hand. Her body was exhausted but working was her escape, she needed to be doing and thinking in order to distract herself from this ongoing grief.

* * *

"About last night-"

"Ignore it." She demanded icily, the x-ray light boards illuminated her tired complexion as she examined a chest x-ray. He'd been chasing her all morning and she'd been avoiding him all morning. Until now. He managed to catch her alone and in a discreet location.

"Connie-"

"No! That was the _last_ time, now please will you just leave me alone!" She snatched the x-ray image down, flicking the light switch angrily before storming off down the corridor. He'd never seen her this emotionally raw. She was becoming unhinged.

"I'm not going to stop-"

"Oh don't I know it?!" She scoffed, halting aggressively as she turned to look at him in the dimly lit space, still shielded from the eyes and ears of people on the ward. "I don't care what you _think_ this is between us, it's nothing. Just sex, that's it-"

"You called me Will." His sentence was calm and collected but silenced her instantly mostly out of confusion.

"What?" She hissed irately, he face wrinkled with anger.

"Last night." He moved closer to her, noting the significant change in her expression as she slowly started to realise what he meant. "When we were having sex, you called me _Will."_ There was a stark silence as she avoided his gaze and tried to think of something to say, even if it was just one word but she was stumped, embarrassed and felt vulnerable to his attack. "No? Not ringing any bells? Well, it's not surprising really." He shrugged falsely, his words hushed but angry now as he tried to get his point across. "It's clear to me now you were pretty drunk, shall I jog your memory?-"

"Stop it!" The pure volume of her voice startled him a fraction, he'd really hit a raw nerve. He was just sick and tired of her hot and cold mood towards him. It was either one or the other, he couldn't cope with the inconsistency. Not to mention how closed off she was, she didn't share any personal conversation just work and sex. It bothered him because he felt like he was _really_ trying to help her through whatever she seemed to be going through and she wouldn't allow it. Hence his obvious anger about being called _Will_ whilst they were screwing, he wasn't offended or upset he was furious that he had to find out that way when he'd asked her and tried to talk to her about it on numerous occasions prior to being called _Will_ in the most sensual way he'd ever heard. He felt like he was invisible to her. Initially he was pursuing her because she was a challenge and there was no point in lying, he found her to be both extremely attractive and highly intelligent. An instant hard-on for him. But now there was a care factor, he didn't realise how deeply she was grieving, she was in turmoil and he _wanted_ to help her. He cared, it was both a blessing and a curse at times because he simply cared too much. But once again she'd shoved him away, and forcefully too. He'd had enough.

"We keep this purely professional from now on, I can't keep up with your moods, Connie! God knows how you ever managed in a relationship! One minute you're riding me like there's no tomorrow and the next morning you don't even want to know me! Talk about whiplash, Jesus!" Her glare turned more ferocious the more he talked.

"Finished?" She spat, her voice deep with anger. "I told you from the get-go it didn't mean anything, sex is sex, Sam. Don't act like you haven't screwed around with all the nurses and left a trail of broken hearts in your wake. Or is it just different this time because you're not the one in control?" She turned the argument around, immediately taking charge of the situation. "Doesn't feel nice, does it? Being used." She scowled, looking him up and down before talking in a hushed voice. "Yes, I may be grieving and yes I may have taken it out on you but I was clear from the start, so don't you _dare_ blame your fractured feelings on me because it doesn't even _compare_ to what I'm feeling right now." Her voice cracked uncontrollably, the tears starting to collect discreetly on her bottom lid as she yelled but she turned away from him, blinking rapidly. She wouldn't allow him to see her this way. Gathering herself for a moment she turned to face him again, awaiting his response.

"Just, stay away from me." His words were low and defeated, he brushed past her roughly leaving the hurt in his voice and face to haunt her conscience, which he was sure she didn't actually have. But he was so wrong. As soon as he disappeared she clasped her right hand over her mouth, her left arm wrapping around herself as she tried to subdue her sobs. This whole situation was getting messier and messier, initially this whole arrangement was numbing her pain but now it seemed to be magnifying it. When she was with Sam she felt a lot less lonely, he wasn't Will and never would be but she felt like he was a temporary patch over the hole in her heart. A distraction for her pain, even if he only slightly dulled the ache it was still better than feeling like this.

And now she was alone again.

* * *

"I don't think you're fit to be at work."

"Excuse me?!" She bellowed furiously across her desk, slowly setting her water jug down after pouring herself a glass. She was in desperate need of a berocca, this hangover was hell but she wasn't about to admit that to Elliot who was currently trying to order her to go home.

"Look at you! You're pale, sickly looking and dare I say you probably had too much to drink last night?" His words were sharp but he had the ability to say them in a way that seemed caring and soft. She struggled to ever yell back at him when he was like this. "Might I be mistaken in also thinking you had a fiery exchange with your registrar again first thing this morning too?" He glanced down at his sandwich as he stood before her, suddenly off his appetite. He couldn't bare seeing her like this. "You're in an incredibly destructive state, Connie. Both towards yourself and to others. I mean, who's to say you're not legally over the limit? You were in theatre half an hour ago, it's half seven in the morning. When did you have your last drink?"

"Elliot, please." She scoffed irritably.

"No, I'm being serious. I think you still have alcohol in your system, your eyes are still bloodshot, you're on the berocca already-"

"I am _not_ intoxicated."

"Prove it."

"Oh for God's sake, I'm not listening to this." Snatching her stethoscope and replacing it back around her neck she headed towards the door but he blocked the way.

"Connie, I'm not joking. If I have reason to believe you're working whilst under the influence, I will take it higher. These are people's lives you're dealing with, it's not to be taken lightly!" He was mad and it was showing through, but mostly he was mad at the lack of care she was showing not only to herself but the patients and staff in her care. He wanted to scare her.

"Move!"

"I'm not moving until you agree to take a blood test."

"Oh, Jesus!" She laughed with disbelief. "You have _got_ to be kidding me?!"

"It'll take three minutes, you can prove your innocence and I'll leave you alone. But if you're still over the legal driving limit-"

"I won't be because I'm fine, Elliot!"

"Well you'll have no issue taking a blood test then, will you?" He smiled triumphantly having trapped her right where he wanted her. He knew she probably wasn't over the limit but still, he wanted to shake her a little make her wake up and get a grip.

He was right, it was all over in less than a minute. Her stomach felt a little unsettled, but she could get back to work with Elliot feeling satisfied she wasn't drunk just hungover.

"This doesn't mean I think your system is free of any alcohol, you're just capable of working but I wouldn't expect your bloods to come back and show you're in the clear." They walked and talked back onto the ward, her face like thunder.

"Well, I guess the bloods will reveal all when they're done won't they?" She swiped a patient file from the nurses station, ignoring his worried gaze. "Am I free to go now, headmaster? Or are there any other rules I've broken?" Her sarcasm was sharp and angry, he'd riled her up well and truly this morning. Instead of aggravating the situation he rubbed her arm sweetly.

"I'm just worried about my friend, is that such an awful thing?" He didn't let her answer his soft question and headed off down the corridor, leaving her to fester in her thoughts. She watched him walk away for a moment before scanning the ward wondering where to begin. She suddenly and awkwardly locked eyes with Sam for an uncomfortable millisecond, he looked as miserable as she felt. She was his boss, they had to communicate and be in one another's presence without attempting to throttle each other. With an audible huff accompanied by an eye-roll she prepared herself to head in his direction.

"Mrs Beauchamp?" She halted frustratedly.

"Yes, Mr Byrne?" Not turning around to face him she waited for him to walk around her, stopping when he was finally stood before her.

"Sorry to bother you, I know you've got a lot on-"

"Yes, I'm very busy so if you could cut to the chase please, Joseph?" Leaning back on one foot and crossing her arms over her green scrubs she blinked slowly trying desperately hard not to lose her rag.

"Yes, sorry, of course. Young man, 21 years old, presenting with severe chest pain-"

"So do your job and find our what's wrong with him." She growled lowly as she started walking towards the other patients awaiting her care.

"No, well that's just it, he's been here since last night and neither myself or Mr Hope can detect any abnormalities."

"So you want me to take a look?" Halting again she finally turned to face him, a suspicious look on her face. "Has Mr Hope put you up to this?" She questioned irately, under the impression Elliot was setting a trap for her. After the argument they'd just had regarding her alcohol consumption she suspected he'd be watching her quite closely, maybe even going as far as testing her abilities on a tricky patient. She'd show him how fine she was.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Oh God." She whispered quickly and quietly with a snarl before forcing a short-lived smile in his direction. "Never mind, thank you Joseph I'll see to him when I can."

"Thank you, Mrs Beauchamp, I'll let Mr Hope know." He bowed his head awkwardly and headed back the way he'd come. All the while Sam had been watching closely, a difficult case could be just what he needed. He felt as though he was just aimlessly sailing at the moment, a tough patient diagnosis might help get him back into the nitty gritty of the job, make him remember exactly why he got into this profession. Maybe even help him forget about all the other bullshit that has come along with it.

"I'll assist with the mystery patient." He spoke firmly as she approached the opposite side of the bed, a sickly looking woman laying between them.

"That's funny, I thought you weren't talking to me?" Keeping her voice calm and soft, she avoided his gaze completely whilst scanning through the patient notes. Not to mention quarrelling over the top of a patient wasn't a good bed manner to have. She didn't see his eye-roll but she knew it was there.

"I just want to do my _job."_

"As do I Mr Strachan." Returning her stethoscope to her neck she sanitised her hands whilst walking away. "Get Mrs Seaton prepped for theatre, you've got ten minutes." If he wanted to act cold and aloof, so could she and she could do it better.

The atmosphere in theatre was prickly and tense, even Dr Greene was feeling uncomfortable, they weren't arguing but they weren't talking either which was odd for the pair. Their screaming matches were considered normal by almost everyone in the hospital now and any other behaviour was deemed strange.

"Trouble in paradise?" His monotonous voice seemed even more bland coming from behind his surgical mask, his face unmoved and almost permanently bored. "Is the dream team no more?"

"Perhaps you should just concentrate on using medicine to keep the patient asleep and not your boring conversation, Keith?" Connie's eyes remained focussed on the open chest cavity between herself and Sam before glancing at him briefly upon hearing him smirk. He quickly straightened his expression as soon as she locked eyes with him, he was trying to be surly and annoyed with her not laughing at her smart remarks. She was sharp and witty though, which made it hard.

"I heard your former registrar's wife paid the ward a visit recently?" He continued to deliberately provoke her. You know how the old saying goes, if you tease a tigress enough she'll attack? It was is if he was doing it on purpose, trying to get a rise out of her and Sam could do nothing but glance briefly between the pair. He just hoped Dr Greene was wearing a cup because she was going to hit him where it hurts the most.

"And I heard your wife - sorry, _ex_ wife, finally found herself a real man. She's expecting isn't she? How many years of trying did you two go through before she sought a stronger seed? Four, five years?" Not once looking at him, it was as though her words literally punched him in the gut. He was silenced immediately, Sam glanced at him momentarily, giving him a look that said _you brought that on yourself, mate._

"There's a bleed, Mrs Beauchamp." Sam brought the focus back to their patient, his heart skipping a beat at the rate at which she was bleeding out.

"I nicked an artery." She hissed. "Right, Mr Strachan, time to put you to work. I want you to locate the bleed and put a single stitch in the artery." She stared at him expectantly over her surgical mask. He didn't meet her glance, instead he focussed on the task at hand and immediately jumped in to repair the bleeding artery. He could feel her eyes burning into him but continued on regardless, determined not to let her bother him the way she was obviously intending to.

"Done." He cut at the surgical thread, a satisfying sound filling the space around them. "Her BP's coming back up, heart's back in regular rhythm." Finally looking over his mask at her their eyes remained connected but there was a coolness to the connection inviting Keith to once again open his boring mouth.

"Well done, Mr Strachan." His tone was dry and sarcastic. "Perhaps we can close up some time today?" Both Connie and Sam rolled their eyes before getting back to business.

"Right, well I trust you're able to finish up here without me holding your hand, Mr Strachan?" Although posed as a question, she wasn't asking. Walking and talking as she pulled her gown and mask off she didn't turn back to look his way. "I have another patient to see." And with that the double doors of the theatre room were left swinging in her wake.

Joseph had seemed oblivious to her question about Elliot putting him up to approaching her in regards to this problem patient but she couldn't help but feel suspicious still. Making her way back to her office she felt she needed a few minutes alone to just _breathe._ As soon as she closed herself inside, the weight of everything in her life collapsed onto her already aching shoulders. She moved over to her desk chair and settled into gently, her eyes fluttering closed with annoyance as she heard her door open again.

"Ah, Connie, you are in here." Elliot smiled and closed the door behind himself.

"I was just leaving." She huffed and got back to her feet again, a tired look on her face.

"Sorry..." He glanced around. "Did I disturb you?"

"No, no. Not at all." Her lips folding together along with her sarcastic tone told him he had indeed disturbed her peace. "What do you want? A urine sample now? Maybe make sure I'm not shooting up heroin in my spare time as well as hitting the bottle too hard?" There was an uncomfortable pause as he shifted under her angry gaze, she'd only just uttered the words and felt regretful already.

"There was no need for that, Connie." His voice was low and extremely quiet, perfectly conveying his wounded feelings. She was so abrasive at the moment. After an extremely drawn out silence, she shifted uncomfortably. She had an overwhelming desire to cry and yell out her feelings so that should wouldn't explode but Connie being Connie she reined herself back in and summoned the power to remain composed as she spoke.

"I am grieving." She admitted painfully, her vocals finally a little more delicate and caring. "And I know you're just trying to look out for me but _please_ just let me get through this and grieve the only way I know how to." There was another moment of silence as they just stared at one another understandingly. She looked tired, like the sadness was eating away at her whilst he looked as though he was beginning to understand there was no help she'd accept. This was her way of coping and if that's what worked for her then who was he to interrupt her healing process.

"Okay." He whispered with a small smile but it was a short-lived one. His eyes moved down to the piece of paper he was holding tightly. "Your results." Holding them out, he let her take them gently.

"Safe to say I think we can just bin them now." She spoke softly, managing a small empty smile but she flinched as his hand wrapped around hers clutching the folded sheet of paper.

"Please, look at them." His eyebrows pulled together in the middle, a look of concern showing through in his eyes. "I'll let you get back to whatever I disturbed." With one final sympathetic half smile he left the office. Her hand was still clenched tightly around the paper, her mind racing yet her body was frozen. She couldn't do it. Regardless of what they said she couldn't undo today, rendering the action pointless. Looking at the paper would only make it real, she didn't _want_ to see it. In a split second she was screwing the paper up furiously before tossing it in the waste paper basket by her desk. Taking a deep breath she repositioned her stethoscope and set off back out onto the ward. She still had a job to do and patients to see.

He was a quiet young man, polite yet reserved. He seemed to be more of an observer but Joseph was right, as she stood at the foot of the bed flicking through his obs and charts from today she struggled to find anything amiss yet here he was complaining of severe chest pain. And now she was about to experience severe head pain as Sam approached the side of the bed too.

"What do we have here?" He asked nicely, looking down at the miserable looking 21 year old laying before them.

"I don't know yet." Her face remained in a frowned expression whilst she read, her eyes suddenly stopping to land upon Sam's being. "Andrew, is it?" She moved her focus back to the patient as she set down his chart, sanitising her hands.

"It's Andy actually, nobody calls me Andrew anymore." He smiled weakly.

"Right, sorry, Andy." Sneaking a sideways glance at Sam she could feel herself getting angry at his presence. "You were last treated at St. James', is that right?"

"Ironically." He smiled. "Yeah, I'm from London but I've recently moved up this way."

"And where were you treated prior to St. James'?"

"I wasn't." He paused, glancing between them. "This only started when I moved up here to Holby."

"Okay." Sighing as quietly as she could she turned her glare to Sam. "Chase his notes up, nobody has managed to get hold of them." Turning briskly, she left and headed straight to the nurses station.

"It's alright." Sam smiled warmly upon noticing the sadness in the boy's face. "You're in safe hands. She's scary as hell but she's good at what she does."

"The best, I've heard." He looked down at his hands, fidgeting endlessly.

"Yes, she has a reputation for her skills and abilities but also for her fiery temper. Don't take it personally though." Sanitising his hands too he removed his stethoscope and moved in to listen to his chest. There was silence as he did so. "Okay, you can sit back again, thanks Andy."

"How long until you know what's wrong with me?"

"I'm afraid I can't say, I'll chase up your notes like Mrs Beauchamp asked and we'll take it from there, okay?" His eyes rolled over the lonely looking lad. "Is there anyone we can call for you? A parent? Or a sibling maybe?"

"No, I don't want to worry my parents and I'm an only child, no siblings."

"Okay, well let us know if you change your mind." Making his way back over to the nurses station he approached her cautiously. She was in a touchy mood and one wrong word might set her off like a bomb. "He's lying."

"Excuse me?" Not looking his way she continued looking over the computer screen before her.

"I don't think he's telling us the truth."

"In regards to his illness or the fact that he doesn't go by Andrew anymore?" Not taking his accusation seriously she seemed completely uninterested in anything he was saying.

"Both."

"Okay, Sherlock, and how exactly did you come up with that conclusion?" Her voice was dry and her tone irritated upon realising he was in fact being serious.

"Look at him." He glanced over at the boy, Connie's eyes following suit. "He looks shifty."

"Or perhaps he's just in an immense amount of pain as he's already described?" She grabbed the files sat next to her and headed back towards her office, Sam hot on her heels.

"I'm just saying, there's something not right here. No notes, no history, all tests are inconclusive-"

"Mr Strachan." She halted and turned around frustratedly before speaking as calmly as she could. "Please, just chase up his notes so we can treat and discharge the patient. We're short on beds as it is without playing detectives." She turned and walked away, a storm following her as she left him under a cloud of frustration.

"Yes, Mrs Beauchamp." Whispering to himself he turned around and headed straight back to the nurses station, his face wrinkling with concentration as he tried to muffle out the sound of Donna and Chrissie arguing behind him.

"Nurse Jackson, how many times do I have to ask you to do _one_ simple task? Mr Davis has been waiting for over an hour to have a catheter inserted. Can you _please_ just get on with it?" Chrissie's face was red with anger as the young nurse once again tried to pull out an excuse.

"I'm doin' you a _favour,_ yeah? I'm coverin' for one of your nurses and I'm tryin' my hardest." Her reply was met with silence as Chrissie marched off leaving Sam and Donna occupying the station. Sam was just putting the phone down as she began muttering under her breath.

"Sounds like we're both having a rough morning." He smiled at her moody looking face. "Connie's roasting my balls today too."

"I'd take being yelled at by Mrs Beauchamp over Chrissie Williams any day." She snatched Mr Davis' notes from the pile, preparing to head over to him.

"Really?" Sam smiled, completely shocked and perplexed by the revelation.

"Well, yeah, I mean she's terrifying but at least she's consistent and she yells at _everyone_ anyway so it's no big deal." She scoffed. "But Chrissie? She's a cow."

"I'll tell her you said that, shall I?" Both Sam and Donna jumped at the sound of Mark's voice behind them. Of all people that could have overheard that it _had_ to be Chrissie's Father and fellow nurse, Mark Williams.

"I just meant-"

"Forget it, I can't be bothered with the drama myself and Connie's on the warpath today. I don't know who pissed in her cornflakes this morning but they need shooting." He interrupted her worry filled sentence. "Look, it's busy and we're understaffed, Chrissie's stressed. We're all _stressed._ Instead of standing around bitching about it, just get on with your jobs." He eyed Sam up too as he began walking away. "You too, Mr Strachan."

"Connie's been on the warpath for weeks, I think she's taking up permanent residence there." She sighed angrily, _still_ not obeying orders and _still_ stood chatting despite the two warnings already.

"Perhaps she's having a rough time." Sam offered, slightly in defence of Connie without realising and some part of him was secretly prying.

"I suppose." She tilted her head in contemplation. "Will's death hit us all hard but-" She stopped herself instantly, her eyes wide with realisation. "I-uh, better get this sorted-"

"No, no!" Halting her suddenly he tried to compose himself. "You know something, don't you?"

"No!" She squinted hard and laughed, attempting to shake it off.

"Donna." Lowering his tone, he thought quickly. His sentences coming together in his head before he opened his mouth again. "You love gossiping, so just spill."

"I can't-"

"So you _do_ know something?" He probed but eased up on the intensity upon realising how uncomfortable she looked. "Sorry, I just-" He ceased speaking and rubbed at his hair in a stressed manner. "I work with her _all day, every day_ and sometimes I just don't know if I can keep going. You know? But maybe if she is going through something, it'll get better with time." He shook his head tiredly. "Never mind, I'm just searching for reasons as to why she's so _angry_ but I guess that's just how it'll always be." She looked over his tired and fraught expression. It was one she knew well from looking at her own reflection in a mirror. Here it came, word vomit. And she couldn't stop it.

"Look, I shouldn't be tellin' you this, but at Ric Griffin's 50th before you started here, I walked in on Mrs Beauchamp and Will Curtis." She looked entirely unsure about letting him in on this secret, even a little scared. "They were having an affair and my guess is, it was still goin' on up until he was killed." Finally, a confirmation. His suspicions were correct, he had a fairly good inkling that they were but still, hearing somebody else confirm it made the idea a whole lot more believable. "Just hang in there, yeah? If my husband was sent to jail and my secret lover killed I'd be feeling frosty as well." She smiled sympathetically thinking about how awful that'd all be but she quickly turned serious again. "You can't tell _anyone_ what I've just said, yeah?" She started to panic having let the cat out of the bag. "Connie will _murder_ me, she knows that I know. She saw me clock her in the mirror and the look she gave me was enough to let me know."

"Secret's safe with me." He patted her arm as she turned to leave, his voice stopping her once more. "Thanks, Donna. I'll grin and bear it."

"Tell _anyone_ and I'll be roasting your balls as well." She gave him a slight smile and finally got on with her duties.

The rest of the day seemed to go by as slow as ever, Sam was having great difficulty tracking down Andy's notes and it was nearing the end of the day. He'd already resigned himself to the fact that regardless of whether he managed to find the notes, Connie was still going to be busting his balls.

"Drinks tonight?" Chrissie asked as she exhaled, sliding up beside him. "I could do with forgetting about today."

"You know what, I think you just read my mind." He sighed defeatedly. "This mystery patient is going to be my demise."

"Who? You mean Andy?" She questioned softly, following Sam's gaze over to the young man. He was odd to say the least.

"Yes, Andy the mystery." His solemn tone and expression made her smile.

"I heard him talking on the phone outside when I took him out to stretch his legs. Skipping all of the minor and unimortant details, he was a patient at Charing Cross Hospital. I rang them about an hour ago, this is his complete history." She handed him the file in her hands, the beaming expression on his face made her smile hard. "You can thank me later, I'll think of a way you can make it up to me."

"Chrissie." He gushed. "You're a _life-saver!"_ He grabbed her face enthusiastically, kissing her cheek.

"I'll see you tonight yeah? In the bar at seven?" She called out as she walked away, unable to hold back a laugh as he was straight into the file reading. The more he read, the more deeply his brow wrinkled. This explained _a lot_. He needed to find Connie and quickly, but first perhaps a quick chat with their mysterious patient.

* * *

Closing her office door behind herself, she placed one hand on her hip as the other one soothed at her aching head. Making a beeline for her chair. Each day was getting more and more blurry, they were all merging into one blank and fuzzy recollection that she desperately wanted to forget.

"Looks like you've had quite a day." Elliot remarked from behind his own desk, his lamp now on and illuminating his face as the sky became darker outside.

"I've had quite a month, Elliot." Retorting dryly she propped her elbows on her desk and rested her head in her hands. "Your _tricky_ patient hasn't made things easier either."

"Ah, yes, Mr Graham. Sorry to unload him on to you, any luck locating his notes?"

"I left it in the capable hands of Mr Strachan." She huffed, her head still resting in her hands.

"He's a resourceful character, I'm sure he'll have tracked them down by the end of the day." He chuckled, almost as if he was purposely trying to make conversation and it was becoming awkward. Allowing a silence to wash over the room he glanced between his computer screen and her dishevelled frame, thinking over his next move. "I quite fancy a hot chocolate for the drive home." He remarked sweetly. "I can bring something back for you if you like? You haven't eaten much today." Standing up, he allowed the dozens of crumbs collected on his woollen vest to drop to his desk and slightly litter the floor as he got into his coat. Something which would regularly harass Connie but she was oblivious to his actions, he watched her raise her head slowly her attention now gravitating towards her computer screen as she placed her palm on the mouse.

"No, thank you, I'm fine." Not glancing his way, she remained dead-pan and fully concentrated on her notes for an upcoming presentation. She was waiting for the sound of him shuffling between their desks, messing up her neat piles as he made his way to the door but he was moving slowly tonight. Her body jolted as he slid a crumpled and taped up piece of paper on to her desk beside her. She automatically looked up at his loving yet concerned expression.

"Please, _look_ at it." His words were soft but that didn't dissolve her anger. He'd entered their office earlier and come to find the torn up shreds of paper in her bin and _knew_ she hadn't looked at them so took it upon himself to tape it up and try once more, much to her annoyance.

"Elliot, seeing it isn't going to undo it." She snarled through a tensed jaw, vexed at his relentless attempts to _fix_ her. How many times did she have to repeat herself? Until she was blue in the face? Until she passed out?

"I'll see you tomorrow." Completely ignoring her anger he turned away and headed for the door, leaving quietly as she stared on in utter shock. Snatching the piece of paper up she turned it over and looked over the results as she would with a patient. He was right, she was legally over the driving limit. If you're too drunk to drive then you're more then certainly too drunk to be cutting people open. Her hand shook, the disgust washing over her. Was this his master plan, to have to read it for herself and feel sickened? Well kudos to him because it worked. Taking a deep breath she let her stinging eyes take in the rest of the information. Her breath quickened and her faced paled instantly.

"No." She whispered to herself, bringing the paper closer to her face to ensure she wasn't making a mistake. After all, Elliot had taped this up, he could have patched it up wrong. Her brow was furrowed hard with concentration but that didn't change the words before her. They were there and they were real.

"Connie!" He barged in loudly, her whole body jumping with fright as stood up quickly and re-crumpled the paper before shoving it into her desk drawer in a panicked fashion. She looked like she'd seen a ghost. "We've got Andy Graham's notes, I think you should take a look at them." He was breathing quickly, like he'd ran all the way here. Moving further into her office, a genuine look of concern suddenly expressed in his facial features as he got closer to her. "Are you..." He trailed off for a moment, not wanting to seem as though he cared after their argument this morning but he wasn't _that_ person and he did care about her, which irked him deeply. "Are you okay?" He asked unsurely, she looked like she was on another planet. Touching her arm gently, he seemed to snap her back to the moment.

"What?" She frowned, an irritated look marking her face.

"You just, you don't look very well, I asked if you were okay?"

"No, yeah, I'm fine." She breathed quickly, brushing off his question and trying to regain control. "The notes, you have them with you?" He backed off, not wishing to aggravate her further today.

"Yes, I think you'll want to take a look." Handing the most relevant pages to her she began reading quickly, her expression and body language still looking fragile as he monitored her closely. "He's got a history of mental health issues, with violent tendencies." Sam sighed, watching her read as he spoke. "He attacked two nurses at Charing Cross, one of the attacks was fatal. He somehow managed to escape Psych and made his way up here. Needless to say _Andy_ isn't his real name. He goes by Chris Johnson."

"Jesus." She whispered as her eyes skimmed over the words at an impressive speed. "Have you approached him yet?"

"No, that's where I was headed with Psych in tow to evaluate him." He trailed off. "But he's gone missing."

"What?" Looking up quickly, her previous state of timidness wore off immediately and the colour ran back into her face. "Call security and start looking for him." Handing him the notes back she moved to the office door quickly.

"Where are you going?" He called out after her as he remained glued to the spot, he'd picked her desk phone up ready to dial for security.

"I'm going to make sure he hasn't discharged himself, we need to find him before he does something stupid." Her words were authoritative and fiery again, she'd recovered remarkably quickly from whatever it was she was dealing with only moments ago. That fascinated him about her, the ability she had to be so focused regardless of what she was going through. If only he knew what she was truly experiencing though.

He couldn't lie, his heart was racing, this was a scary situation but at the same time his curiosity was fighting his conscience. His fingers touched the upper drawer of her desk softly, almost as if he was internally fighting himself _not_ to open it but he couldn't resist. Setting the phone down for a second, he grabbed the handle and slid it open gently, not taking his eyes off of the door frame until the drawer was fully open. Glancing down briefly, he grasped the screwed up ball of paper and smoothed it out in his hands. It had her name at the top, they were blood test results. His puzzled complexion only became more pronounced as he put himself in the same situation she was in only moments ago, his eyes rippling unevenly across the page, it was disjointed and hard to read but he managed. He hadn't quite realised how drunk she was last night but seeing it on paper he felt a little guilty and was even a little taken aback.

Even more so when he reached the bottom of the sheet. His face dropping dramatically as his mouth dryly whispered the words so quietly, they were almost inaudible.

"hCG levels measure 25,700 mIU/mL." He swallowed hard and trailed off as his head swirled with thought, his features twisted in complete disbelief. "She's pregnant?"


	6. Chapter 6

***Thank you to those who are still reading this, it'll be updated less often now and 'Dirty Secrets' will be the main focus but here's another chapter in the meantime! Please read and review, I hope you enjoy! XX***

 **Note: This chapter is quite graphic, I guess? So trigger warning for that and also I am no medical expert, please don't read too far into what I'm typing because I'll almost definitely be wrong!**

 _He couldn't lie, his heart was racing, this was a scary situation but at the same time his curiosity was fighting his conscience. His fingers touched the upper drawer of her desk softly, almost as if he was internally fighting himself not to open it but he couldn't resist. Setting the phone down for a second, he grabbed the handle and slid it open gently, not taking his eyes off of the door frame until the drawer was fully open. Glancing down briefly, he grasped the screwed up ball of paper and smoothed it out in his hands. It had her name at the top, they were blood test results. His puzzled complexion only became more pronounced as he put himself in the same situation she was in only moments ago, his eyes rippling unevenly across the page, it was disjointed and hard to read but he managed. He hadn't quite realised how drunk she was last night but seeing it on paper he felt a little guilty and was even a little taken aback._

 _Even more so when he reached the bottom of the sheet. His face dropping dramatically as his mouth dryly whispered the words so quietly, they were almost inaudible._

 _"hCG levels measure 25,700 mIU/mL." He swallowed hard and trailed off as his head swirled with thought, his features twisted in complete disbelief. "She's pregnant?"_

* * *

"Any luck finding him?" Chrissie's words sang over his shoulder as she slid up next to him, joining him on his walk back to the Nurses station. He'd done as Connie had requested and called security, they were up on the ward looking too but despite this rush of panic about a potentially violent patient he could not shake his mind from Connie's test results. The ones stowed away in her desk drawer that he shouldn't even know about, let alone know the contents of.

"No." He sighed, smoothing his tie down over his shirt. "Connie's checking to see if he's been discharged but I have a nasty feeling he's still around." He glanced down at her worried face. "But I'm sure it'll be fine, we've got security up here too." Attempting to reassure her he placed his hand on her lower back warmly.

"Maybe I should warn the staff-"

"I think we should just wait to see what Connie says first, for all we know security might have him." He studied her reaction, she looked unsure but once her eyes connected with his she nodded delicately.

"Okay, but as soon as you hear anything you let me know." Pointing her finger at him with warning she peeled away and headed back to the ward as they reached the nurses station. As his mind raced with over a thousand different thoughts he came back to the moment upon hearing Connie's voice down the corridor to his right. She was talking to security but so far it looked like there was still no sign of Chris. He watched her shaking her head angrily before she turned and headed this way. Her green scrubs only adding to her pale and exhausted complexion.

"Nothing?" He questioned hopefully but her aggravated head shake told him all he needed to know. "How on _Earth_ has he managed to slip through the system like this?"

"I don't know." She sighed a short and angry breath before placing her palms on the desk and leaning over it deep in thought. "Has he said anything to you? Anything strange? Anything that might indicate why he's here, where he might have gone?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary." He stopped, his brain suddenly sparking. "Actually, he knew of you though, he knew your name and knew you were a recognised surgeon." His eyes darted over her, he could almost _see_ her thinking.

"His notes, was there a next of kin listed?"

"I didn't look." Quickly stepping to it, he grabbed the computer mouse and got them up on the screen whilst Connie watched with bated breath. "Yeah, here we are." He paused, moving closer to the screen as he pointed with his index finger. "Next of kin is listed here as a Tessa Johnson?" He did a little more digging and searching whilst they stood. "His sister, she was treated here too..." Trailing off for a moment her looked at her glumly. "She died here."

"Shit." She whispered under her breath but he was so close to her it was audible.

"What is it?" Straightening up, he was no longer at her height level, forcing her to look up at him. The hesitance was obvious, a hint of worry in her glassy eyes.

"She was a patient I treated a few months ago." Licking her lips frustratedly she broke eye contact and glanced around the ward, it was dimly lit, everything had slowed down as it normally does in the evening. Staff and patients were quiet and considerate of those who were sleeping. If anything, evening shifts were more pleasant but they tended to drag. Technically speaking they both should have finished over an hour ago but their loose patient prevented them from abandoning the ward.

"Do you think that's got anything to do with why he's here?" His words were laced with concern, his voice soft and velvety on her ears.

"She was one of the three who contracted the MRSA virus Michael tried to cover up." Her eyelids flickered shut with resentment, not wanting to believe that even now, months after he'd left her life she was still dealing with the consequences of his fuck up.

"That's how he knows your name." As he stated the fact aloud, Connie was forced to look up at him nervously, hooked on every word he uttered. "I'll let security know, if that's the case he might be on some sort of revenge mission."

"Right, I'll alert the rest of the staff." She was quick to add to his statement, after outlining their separate tasks they hopped to it, heading in opposite directions. The whole time he was dying to ask her _A_ _re you pregnant? Is it my child?_ But how does one simply dive into a question like that? Especially when it's your _boss._ It was impossible. He chewed his lip with thought as he headed for the stairwell, letting the door swing closed behind him. No, he'd have to wait until she brought it up with him. But what if she didn't? His brain was sizzling with too many questions. His body silencing his head as it jumped into fight or flight mode. Stood before him was an extremely unstable looking Chris, the front of his gown bloodied up and a scalpel held out at the ready.

"Don't move!" He spat unsteadily, his voice echoing in the stairwell. Instinctively, Sam went to do the opposite and stepped back towards the door with widened eyes. He could hear his heart beating in his ears. "I said don't move!" He yelled again, the redness of his face almost matching that of his bloodied gown and bleeding hand.

"Alright, it's okay." Holding his hands up as he whispered unsurely he stepped away from the door, showing him he meant no harm. "What's happened to your hand, Chris? It's bleeding." Talking as calmly as he could, his aim was to discreetly page for help, talk him down, calm the situation and remove the scalpel before anyone else got hurt.

"I don't _need_ your help!" Still unhinged, his hand was shaking relentlessly as he waved the sharpened surgical tool towards Sam's face. The adrenaline was surely pumping through his body now, flinching with each movement Chris made.

"Is this about your sister, Chris?" Keeping his voice level and quiet, he continued to use his name and make him remain human. "Tessa? She was treated here too, wasn't she?"

"You _killed_ her! You all did!" The sweat on his furrowed and angry brow was trickling down his face, mixing in with his rage-filled tears as he continued to vent his anger.

"That's not true-"

"Where is he?!" He cut him off, demanding answers as he lunged forward once again. Sam dodged the jab and had managed to grab his pager in his pocket, pressing it to start an audio message. "The bloke responsible!" He screamed again upon receiving no answer. "Where is he?! I know that's his wife out there!"

"Yes, yes you're right." Trying not rile him up any further, he decided to agree with him and go along with what he was saying for the sake of wasting time. "That was his wife, Mrs Beauchamp. She tried to save your sister-"

"She didn't try hard enough!" His bellowed yells filled the entire stairwell, echoing back to both of their ears after a millisecond of silence. The blood dripping from his hand was collecting into a small puddle on the ground, Sam's eyes darted down to take a look before locking eyes with him again.

"Chris, the man responsible for your sister's death isn't here." Breathing shakily he attempted to move closer to the deranged and grieving soul. The audio message had been sent but who to he had no clue, most likely his most recent contact which would have been Connie. He just prayed the rampant yells had been heard and security would rock up before she did. "He's in prison, which is exactly where he belongs-"

"He deserves to suffer like my sister did!" He screeched at an even more shrill level, causing Sam to wince as his breath caught in his throat. The pure volume of his shriek had distracted him from anything else going on but the sharp, burning pain in his chest quickly dragged him back to reality. Staggering backwards, his spine came into contact with the cool wall as he slid down to the floor slowly. Glancing down at his torso everything started to move in slow motion. The scalpel was buried deep into his chest through his crisp white shirt, he couldn't say where but from his perspective it was either in or very close to his heart. Breathing fast and heavy, his ears ceased to hear anything at all. He could just manage to make out Chris screaming and yelling silently before him, looking back up as two security guards tackled him roughly to the ground, it was as though it was being played frame by frame. Each capture burned into his memory. Suddenly feeling warmth on the side of his neck and face, her pleasing features came into view.

"No, no, no!" Whispering in a panicked fashion, Connie was on her knees at his side within seconds, her right palm pressed over his ear and her thumb resting on his cheek whilst her fingers became buried in his hair. She was completely oblivious to the danger behind herself. "Stay with me, Sam!" She stroked her thumb over his cheekbone, trying desperately to get some sort of response out of him. Clamping her other hand around his she pulled it away from the scalpel as his fingers became covered in his own blood trying to pull it from his chest. "Don't move, okay. Don't dislodge it." She continued to soothe, even after noting he obviously wasn't hearing anything. Her own heart was racing not only with sheer panic but one might even say a slight bout of post traumatic stress. Her brain plagued with images and flashbacks of Will's bloodied up body laying underneath her. His blood covering her hands and arms all the way up to her elbows, she'd been performing internal massage on his heart for what felt like an eternity on the trolley whilst they rushed him up to theatre but he'd already gone.

"Connie!" Calling her name from a fourth time, Ric managed to snap her out of her mini blank out. "Step aside, he's bleeding out!" Bent down beside her he started to move in but the surgeon in her took the reins again and forced her back into action.

"No, it's fine, I'm fine." Breathing erratically, she swiftly clamped her hand down firmly around the embedded scalpel and pressed down hard. Her brow furrowing apologetically as his own hand flew up to grab hers, protesting at the pain. "I know, I know." she cooed softly. "I'm sorry." Whispering gently, she kept her other hand where it was, holding his head up whilst simultaneously soothing him.

"They're getting a theatre room prepped. Mr Hope has been informed, he's scrubbing in." Ric reassured calmly. "We need to lay him flat and cut his clothing ready, the porters are here with a bed to move him." His words became distant to her as the cavalry rushed in, fitting him with an oxygen mask before lifting him out and on to a bed ready to move him to theatre. All the while she hadn't let go of his wound, maintaining the pressure with both hands now as she walked along with them rushing down to the operating room. Ric remained on the other side, cutting carefully but quickly at his white-turned-blood-red shirt. It was off in seconds, both of them acting carefully to take caution around the stab would. Removing the scalpel was a risk, hence why she left it embedded. Walking on ahead Ric, pushed one of the double doors open at the ready, aiming to reduce any unnecessary trauma from barging through with the bed as they normally would. His eyes locked firmly onto Sam's hand grasping onto Connie's with enough strength to make her knuckles turn white. She was squeezing back just as tightly.

"Okay, Connie." Elliot appeared beside her once in the theatre entrance. "I can take it from here." Placing a caring hand on her shoulder he endeavoured to peel her away from his side but as always she was behaving stubbornly, adamant that she was scrubbing in also.

"Somebody grab me some fresh scrubs, a pair of size six gloves-"

"Connie." He only repeated her name once more to grab her attention and stop her requests, the tremor in her voice bringing out the fatherly figure in him. "I can handle this, you're too close. It'd be unethical." He knew that wouldn't be enough to discourage her so he tried another tactic as she watched them wheel Sam through the second set of doors once he was completely prepped for surgery. Feeling his hand slip out of hers was a sickening feeling. It was as if she was reliving Will's death all over again, all of her pent up grief, sorrow and pain was resurfacing through this traumatic moment and now she was faced with losing another registrar to a fate just as devastating. "He knows you're here and that's enough, you need to get cleaned up, take a moment to calm down. I promise you, I'll make sure he's okay." He was trying to think rationally, being aware that she was in the early stages of pregnancy and thus more susceptible to miscarrying if severely distressed.

"I know you will." Nodding as calmly as she could, her teary eyes connected with his over the glasses perched in his nose. His surgical cap restraining his wiry grey curls as he nodded back at her. She felt completely helpless witnessing him disappear into theatre, leaving her stood bloodied and lonely. Unbeknownst to her, Ric remained stood close, worried about her state of mind after having witnessed her with Will when he died also. He was still holding the door, waiting for her to exit with him.

"Come on, I'll go grab you some clean scrubs whilst you get cleaned up." Reaching his arm up he motioned to place it around her but felt differently about it, Connie wasn't the type to receive pity well so instead her merely held it behind her as if guiding her the way. She was as white as a sheet, not a single hint of colour in her flesh aside from Sam's blood that remained covering her hands, forearms, scrubs and even a fleck or two across her neck and face.

"Ric, I just heard-" Chrissie's frantic voice faded to nothing as she rounded the corner and set eyes upon Connie's dishevelled state, along with the copious amount of blood she was wearing, which she could only assume was Sam's.

"Nurse Williams, could you please locate a new pair of scrubs for Mrs Beauchamp?"He widened his eyes, noting her fearful expression. They'd halted by the toilets, allowing Connie to enter before he spoke to the nurse properly.

"How is he? What happened?" She blurted out before he could summon a word from his own lips.

"He's in theatre, Elliot's working on him but it uh, it doesn't look great."

"And Connie?" Her eyes moved to the closed _Ladies Toilets_ door as though she could see through it.

"I think she's just in shock, she was first on scene." He folded his lips and looked down. "It wasn't long ago she was in the same situation with Will, I can only imagine she's probably going through a hell of a lot right now."

"Yeah." She trailed off, hiding her own concerns for Sam, the feelings she had for him only becoming more apparent when faced with the possibility of losing him. "Of course, the trauma's probably all still fresh. I'll go and sort out some scrubs." She spoke lowly before brushing past him gently, heading off to find what was asked of her. Holding back her tears as best she could.

Ric wasn't sure whether to wait outside or go in and see if she was okay, he settled on the first option knowing Connie as well as he did he figured she'd only react badly to him trying to help. Beyond the door she remained leaning over the white porcelain sink, the blood rinsing away down the plughole with the warm water but no matter how hard she scrubbed, it was everywhere. Pumping more and more soap into her palms she rubbed her hands together viciously, the white soap suds turning an awful pink colour. That awful metallic smell of blood was stained into her skin, engrained in her senses and making her stomach turn, a sudden onset of extreme pain hitting her like truck. Turning the tap off suddenly she headed into one of the cubicles briskly, her gag reflex working almost instantly. Her brow started to bead with sweat whilst audible whimpers escaped through gritted teeth between each heave as she threw up. That was enough for Ric to become concerned and he'd entered abruptly.

"Connie?" He darted around the corner, heading straight towards the cubicle he'd heard the toilet flushing in, assuming that was the one she was occupying. She was done throwing up and was slumped against the wall wiping at her mouth with tissue, still covered in blood aside from the majority of her hands. "Okay, let's get you up off the floor." He lulled sympathetically. "You're in shock, we need to get you looked at." Bending down to where she was sat, he sought to help her up but she grimaced in pain. Her face was still ghostly white but a touch of colour was starting to come through in her cheeks. Hurriedly looking her over, his eyes scanned her body for any possibly injuries only just realising he hadn't checked her at the scene of the incident and for all he knew she could have been hurt too. His brows relaxed and his expression deadened seeing the fresh blood reddening and spreading quickly around her upper thighs whilst she trembled before him.

"Here are the scrubs, they only had extra large-" Chrissie didn't finish her sentence, her eyes wandering over the sight before her and expanding with shock. "I'll call Obs and Gynae." The five words she uttered were so rushed they almost blended into one, she exited the toilets at a good pace, running to the nearest nurses station. In the meantime Ric had shrugged out his suit jacket, draping it over her lap sweetly, partially to cure the shock and keep her warm and partially to let her maintain some dignity. She hadn't breathed a word. Instead she turned her head as far away from him as possible, not wanting anyone to see her like this. She sat crippled in pain, trying her hardest to control the urge to make any sort of sound. She felt him leave her side and could hear him moving around, only realising what he was doing when she felt the warm, wet paper towels on her arm as he returned to his position next to her and continued what she'd started. Cleaning the blood off as gently as he could, pretending not to hear her sniffles as she cried silently. Glancing at the back of her head he couldn't help but feel sad for her. Everything she must have been going through already with Michael and her former registrar, and now all of this? In one day?

The world could be cruel sometimes.


	7. Chapter 7

***Thank you all so, so much for the incredible reviews you left on the last chapter! I was so surprised, I'm glad you're enjoying it so far because I really love writing this fic! Anyhow, I'll stop blathering, enjoy this next chapter, please review! XX Also excerpts in italics are usually flashbacks, like dreams or just flashback memories.***

 _"Here are the scrubs, they only had extra large-" Chrissie didn't finish her sentence, her eyes wandering over the sight before her and expanding with shock. "I'll call Obs and Gynae." The five words she uttered were so rushed they almost blended into one, she exited the toilets at a good pace, running to the nearest nurses station. In the meantime Ric had shrugged out his suit jacket, draping it over her lap sweetly, partially to cure the shock and keep her warm and partially to let her maintain some dignity. She hadn't breathed a word. Instead she turned her head as far away from him as possible, not wanting anyone to see her like this. She sat crippled in pain, trying her hardest to control the urge to make any sort of sound. She felt him leave her side and could hear him moving around, only realising what he was doing when she felt the warm, wet paper towels on her arm as he returned to his position next to her and continued what she'd started. Cleaning the blood off as gently as he could, pretending not to hear her sniffles as she cried silently. Glancing at the back of her head he couldn't help but feel sad for her. Everything she must have been going through already with Michael and her former registrar, and now all of this? In one day?_

 _The world could be cruel sometimes._

* * *

 _"You wouldn't like to be a Mother some day?" He stood behind her asking with amusement between planting kisses along her shoulder and the side of her neck as his hands wrapped around her from behind. Smoothing his palms over her hips before moving them back up towards her chest, her shirt becoming wrinkled as his hands glided up over her torso. He'd pressed his front up so close to her back she almost struggled to keep herself collected. They'd been dealing with a young child, which fascinated Will as he watched Connie work with her, the maternal side she was displaying only drawing him further into his feelings for her. He couldn't contain it, hence the act of pouncing on her in her office._

 _"Stop." She whispered exasperatedly, the smallest groan finished off her one word answer as his hands finally reached her breasts, applying the right amount of pressure to draw out a sexualised moan from her lips. Her head falling back to rest on his shoulder as her back melted into his front, her chin now facing upwards as her eyes closed with the pleasure. He smiled at her rolling against him, her throat fully accessible to his mouth and inviting him gladly as her hands moved to sit atop of his, initially to stop him but it felt so good she ended up guiding him. Continuing to move his hands expertly under her supervision, he licked and sucked at her neck ravenously, his fingers now tugging at the buttons on her black shirt. But her hands clamped down on his quickly, halting the progression of their encounter. Breathing heavily she pulled her head up and stepped out of his embrace, letting go of his hands._

 _"Connie-"_

 _"Michael's in today, I've already told you we can't do this in here." She licked her lips as she turned to face him, wiping at her neck in a rushed manner and doing up the one button he'd managed to get undone. Her office fell silent as he looked down disappointedly._

 _"No, you're right." He shook his head, not knowing what had come over him. "Sorry."_

 _"But we can pick up where we left off later?" She whispered seductively not wanting him to lose faith, noting his mischievous smile she moved over to her office door and opened it for him courteously. "That'll be all Mr Curtis." Speaking with more volume, he couldn't help but shake his head at the act she was putting on, getting as close to her as possible as he slipped through the doorway, making sure to give her arse a squeeze as he left. Her smile only remained present for approximately five seconds before it disappeared with her mind catapulting back to his initial question._

 _And the answer was 'yes'._

* * *

She could hear noise around her but it was like white noise, there was nothing particularly distinctive about it that would indicate where she was or what was happening. It almost sounded as though she was trapped in a bubble, the outside world muffled to her ears. Still, it wasn't enough to muster the strength to open her eyes, she felt like they were glued shut. She could hear Elliot's voice in her mind, her sharp brain quickly deciphering his words and working out he wasn't in fact in her head, but stood next to her talking worriedly.

"Is she conscious?" His face was contorted with worry as he gazed at his troubled friend laying in the hospital bed before him. Ric had just talked him through everything that had happened, he'd remained the leading physician to allow her a modicum of privacy. Nobody else needed to be aware of her current situation, Chrissie was happy to help and he had her word this would remain confidential, as it would with a regular patient.

"She is now, yes." Ric answered promptly, not wishing for Elliot to panic. "She's just sleeping, they gave her something for the pain earlier. She'd passed out when Obs and Gynae got to us."

"To have all of this happen to one person..." His voice was grave as he trailed off.

"Perhaps I should leave you both to talk." His eyes remained fixed on Connie, noticing her eyes were starting to flutter open slowly. "I'll pop back in later to see how she's doing." He offered Elliot a smile along with a shoulder pat as he looked at her one last time before leaving them to talk, he knew Elliot was her confidant and thought it best they speak alone. The room occupied only the two of them now as she came to gradually. Out of instinct her hand came up to pull the tubes from her nose but Elliot's warm, soft hand stopped her.

"No, no, leave that in." He smiled down at her, she looked confused. "You gave us all quite a fright there."

"Mmm." She blinked slowly, her brow lowering as she finally made out her surroundings, her voice gravelly with dowsiness. "What-"

"You collapsed, Connie." He jumped into explaining quickly as she'd tried to sit up, slightly distressed and confused. "You're okay though, there's no need to panic." He perched himself on the side of her bed, watching her mind tick at lightning speed. He could only imagine the hundreds of thoughts and images racing through her brain right now. It was like he was watching a slide-show on her facial expression as she remembered the horrific sights she'd witnessed only hours ago.

"Sam." She whispered, swallowing hard she sat up again quickly but winced in agony forcing her to lay back into the pillow as cautiously as she could.

"Easy, easy." He ushered worriedly, leaning forward to ensure she moved slowly. "He's okay, Sam's absolutely _fine."_ He smiled genuinely. "He's out of theatre and in recovery. Alrhough, I dread to think of the outcome had you not found him when you did." He squinted at her reaction as she looked down at her clean hands expecting to see blood but they were spotless. "How did you know where he was?"

"A message." She croaked before licking her lips and taking a deep breath. "He sent out an audio message, I gathered by the echoing he was in a stairwell."

"Good job." He praised before continuing matter of factly. "He was stabbed twice, you know?" Scaling her reactions carefully, she looked up in shock.

"No, there was only one entry wound, I wouldn't have missed that-"

"We didn't even see it until he was in theatre, as we made the first incision." He folded his lips together tightly. "There's _no way_ you could have known, Connie. The entry wounds were within three millimetres of one another. That's why there were so much blood." He carried on talking to her, he knew she'd want all the details and talking to her as if she was a delicate patient relative wouldn't please her so it was cold hard facts and delivered in a clear cut manner. That's what she'd want. "The first entry wound was mostly superficial, only slightly grazing the heart, my guess is Chris struck him in a quick succession, Sam barely would have had time to even register he'd been wounded until the second stab, which did hit the heart." He looked at her in a remarkable fashion. "You did the right thing to leave it embedded, if he'd pulled that out as I heard he'd tried to, that would have been it..." He trailed off, allowing Connie to complete the dreaded sentence.

"Game over." Her eyes moved back to her hands, her brow wavering as she focused on the cannula in her arm. Swallowing hard she tried to force back the tears, the final memories of the evening hitting her in the chest like a tonne of bricks, the flickered images of her own blood on her scrubs as she winced with the recollection. "It was Will's baby." Her short, quiet sentence shocked him. "But you already knew that, didn't you?" She sniffled, unable to stem the tears anymore as they rolled freely down her cheeks. She'd had months of pent up grief from losing Will and the trauma of the last few hours had rendered her unable to contain it anymore, especially not now with the loss of his baby too.

"They still are." He squeezed her hand tightly, his own eyes filling up as he watched over his tormented friend. Her breath ceased as she glanced at him, utterly perplexed. He couldn't help but smile at her reaction.

"What?" Whispering emotionally she begged him with her eyes to explain, her hand squeezing at his tightly. The tears still streaming uncontrollably down her face.

"You suffered a bleed, a bad bleed actually." He cleared his throat, trying to get himself back in check with his emotions. "But remarkably, you didn't lose either of the babies." He tensed his hand around hers twice, noting she was in shock, he just couldn't gather whether it was good shock or bad shock. "You're having twins, Connie."

* * *

The rest of the night was a complete and utter blur. On top of the shock and trauma she was already experiencing, this other scrap of news was failing to register with her properly. Obviously she was aware of what was being said and knew she was pregnant with not one but _two_ babies however, the information hadn't really sank in yet and Elliot could tell. He left her to rest, popping back in at around 11pm to see her on his way out.

"Have you managed to think about what you're going to do yet?" He nodded his head towards her barely visible bump beneath the blue hospital blanket she was covered with.

"I can't terminate." She murmured in a hushed tone, he eyes fixed on her fidgeting hands. "I just can't." Quickly trying to pull herself out of a depressive episode she blinked rapidly, clearing the tears before speaking again. "Is Sam awake yet?" She tried to ask nonchalantly but he noted the deep care in her tone of voice.

"Not yet, I suspect he won't for a little while." He propped bis satchel down on her side table and moved over to the corner of the large room. "I've managed to organise another ultrasound, just so we can keep you up to speed."

"Elliot, it's fine I-" Attempting to paddle away from this daunting moment that was fast approaching, quite literally as Elliot wheeled the scanner over to her, she held her hands up in protest but he butted in stubbornly. To fight her stubborness, he'd have to be just as headstrong as her.

"Connie, you missed your first scan because she were unconscious. It'll take five minutes, I just think it's important that you're kept in the loop." He ignored her resistance, setting the machine up regardless. "Besides, I want to see them. They can be my adoptive grandchildren since I have none of my own yet."

"Elliot-" Her voice was quiet and tired.

"I'll turn away whilst you pull your gown up, you can use the blanket to cover yourself." Not listening to her, he got the gel out and turned away, waiting for her to obey his instructions. To his astonishment she cooperated with an irked huff as she snatched the blanket up angrily before rolling her gown up to her rib cage. Remaining silent, she ignored his attempts at making jokes or small talk, instead focussing solely on the cannula in her arm as he spread the cool gel over her abdomen and began searching across her midsection with the scanner head. She gasped slightly at the coolness but got used to it quickly. Finding no solace in the silence her ears were suddenly met with the faint sound of a beating heart. "Ah, there we go." He beamed, looking at the screen in amazement. "The Obs and Gynae doctor was right, you're about nine weeks. Typically quite early to detect twins but there are definitely two in there. You're measuring quite large for your gestational age too, another indication of twins." He smiled marvellously before turning to see her reaction but she wasn't facing the screen. His happiness died a little, worrying she would have trouble dealing with a pregnancy right now considering everything that had happened in her life recently. "Connie, I know it's daunting and you've had an extremely emotional and traumatic few weeks but if these really are Will's babies-"

"They _are."_ She choked tearfully, her face still not in his line of sight but she couldn't bring herself to look at the screen.

"And that doesn't comfort you?" He asked delicately, continuing on when he was met with a few seconds of silence. "That where there's death, there's also life? These will be two little humans that share a part of him as well as you." He carried on studying the side of her face, he could see the tears staining her cheeks, glistening in the dim lighting but she still wouldn't respond to him. He wasn't sure if what he was saying was right, knowing nothing about what went on between the two of them he could only base his thinking on her behaviour and what he assumed was the case. And so far what he could guess was Will and Connie were lovers, despite him being married with children, which made this situation even more delicate. "I know this is a lot to take in-"

"Do you?" Interrupting him gently, she finally looked at him. He was expecting anger but even worse, she looked hurt. "Because I'm not sure you've ever had to lose someone the way I lost him, impaled on some scaffolding before being wrist deep in his chest cavity-" She halted, not wanting the memories to sneak back into her thoughts. "Only to now find out that I'm actually carrying his babies and he'll _never_ know." Her painful words were breaking his heart. _This_ is what she'd been dealing with alone all of this time. "And he won't be there-" She cut herself off sharply, becoming far too upset to continue. Facing away again, she attempted to mask her cries. Elliot could do nothing as he felt a wave of regret washing over him, her heart rate on the other bed monitor slowly climbing higher and higher. He was only trying to help but was ultimately just causing her more distress.

"Okay." He breathed defeatedly, removing the scanner cautiously. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to help." He moved everything back to where it was, his heart convulsing as he listened to her sobbing quietly. "I'll let you get some rest, I apologise if I've upset you. That really wasn't my intention at all." Grabbing his bag, he headed for the door solemnly but her lethargic voice stopped him. Her nose sounded blocked and stuffy because of her grieving whilst her eyes looked swollen and bloodshot with all of the tears she'd shed.

"The other heartbeat." She stated whilst sniffling. "I couldn't hear it? I could only hear one." Her eyes connected with his and he felt a rush of achievement run through him. She did care. Trying not to look too excited or happy, he stammered nervously in the doorway.

"Ah, yes, well it's sometimes hard to pick it unless you're listening really hard." She merely stared at him, waiting for a more reassuring explanation, what he just said still didn't explain why she couldn't hear two beats. "The ultrasound definitely shows two babies, there was two heartbeats too." He smiled warmly at how her posture relaxed with that sentence spoken. "One was just more prominent than the other. It's probably down to their positioning, that's all." She merely nodded again, looking down at her lap. "They're keeping you in for tonight only, but don't expect to be coming straight back to work." He warned. "They're signing you off on sick leave for a couple of weeks. You're exhausted. You're over-exerting yourself, you're not sleeping." He paused sadly. "You're abusing your own body but it's not just you that you have to think about anymore. Please, look at this as a wake-up call, next time you may not be so lucky." Wincing in preparation for an angry outburst of insults and protests he was left shocked when she once again nodded before letting her head rest back on to her pillow. The relief he felt was welcomed by him most gladly. "Goodnight, Connie."

* * *

"You're supposed to _resting,_ Connie." Elliot's stern voice jolted her from her sleep, her whole body stiffening in the extremely uncomfortable chair by Sam's bedside. "You should be at home with your feet up." She'd fallen asleep curled up in the rickety seat. In fresh scrubs and her green NHS cardigan, identical to Will's but this one was actually her size. Sam hadn't woken at all since coming out of theatre so she'd spent the entire day waiting by his side, napping to pass the time.

"I'm fine." She whispered tiredly as she sat up properly in the chair attempting to read her watch having only just woken up. As soon as she'd been discharged that morning she was straight up into the ITU to check on her wounded registrar, her heart most certainly wouldn't be able to cope with another death, especially not with how things were between them. The way she'd treated him over the last few weeks, she shuddered at the thought. Finally getting a time after squinting at her watch, she yawned before locking eyes with her concerned colleague.

"It's five in the evening, have you even eaten today?" Her blank expression told him that'd be a _no._ "Right, I'll go and get you something then." Throwing the patient files down roughly, he made a point of displaying his anger and she noticed.

"Elliot, I'm not hungry-"

"Believe it or not, I don't care, Connie." He spoke harshly, interrupting her from the doorway. "I can't just sit and watch you do this to yourself, to your _unborn children_." He shook his head with frustration and left for the canteen. Allowing his words to replay in her head over and over again, she looked down at her abdomen. Now that she knew she was pregnant it was kind of obvious to her. How could she not have noticed? There was clearly a tiny bump there, a very small one, but nonetheless it was still there and would only be getting bigger. She placed the palm of her hand on her midsection cautiously, slightly apprehensive to even feel it properly but as soon as she made contact it all seemed to melt together. Rubbing her thumb over it gently she couldn't help but wonder what Will would be saying right now. Probably something along the lines of how difficult she was, that she should listen to Elliot and stop being so stubborn. He'd be right. She felt physically ill with thought of how badly she'd been treating her body over the last few weeks, and all the while she was carrying these two precious lives within her. Elliot was right, next time she might not be so lucky.

With Elliot being Elliot, he felt bad as soon as he'd got down to the canteen and decided to get himself something to eat too so he could dine with her. Obviously it wasn't anything fancy, just a couple of packaged sandwiches but it filled a hole. He'd long finished his, the crumbs still scattered across his scrubs as he observed her picking at hers slowly, regardless of how slow she was eating he was just glad she was getting some food into her system.

"It gets easier, Connie. I promise." He offered a small sentence of encouragement, desperate to drown the silence better than Sam's heart monitor was. They were sat on either side of the bed, looking over him at one another. Looking down at himself, he smiled as he wiped the crumbs away knowing his late wife Gina would be shaking her head at him had she been there. It'd been a year or so since she passed and although he missed her deeply, he wasn't lying with what he'd just said. Each day was hard but over time it'd get better.

"I'm sorry, about what I said last night." Taking a moment between phrases she breathed steadily. "You _do_ know what it's like to lose someone and I didn't mean to minimise your loss or discredit your feelings."

"It's alright." He whispered. "You'd had a hell of a day yesterday and I knew what you were trying to say, however warped it came out." They both smiled at one another, the quietness engulfing them.

"He was going to leave Susan." She spoke lowly referring to the letter she'd found in Will's locker, still picking at the last piece of her sandwich. "How ridiculous is that?"

"Did you love him" A very forward question but he held his ground, watching her as she became still and silent before answering quietly.

"Yes." Her voice held a tiny hint of shame and embarrassment, he couldn't work out whether it was because she was confessing to having been involved with a married man or she felt vulnerable expressing such things to him.

"And I'm assuming he loved you too of he was prepared to leave his wife." Trying his hardest to see right through all that was wrong, he ignored his own morals and concentrated on trying to make her feel reassured. It had happened and it was irreversible, there was no going back so what good would come from making her feel guilty about it all. "So I don't see anything ridiculous about it. Love is love, Connie. You can't pick and choose who you fall for." There was another gap of silence before he spoke up again. "How long was thing going on between you both?"

"A year, maybe a little less?" She shrugged to herself, her eyes still concentrating on the last of her food. "I don't know, it doesn't really matter now."

"Of course it matters." Elliot said with disbelief. "That's an entire year of memories, Connie. Don't wipe them away, _cherish_ them." His grey eyebrows were pulled together tightly, his own heart hurting for her. Second-hand pain, one might say. "Keep the memories alive, tell the little ones when they're older." His sweet speech was touching and warm but seemed to have an adverse effect on her as she stood up quickly, her hand raising to her eyes whilst she patted the tears away. He felt as though they were stuck in the same continuous cycle. He'd try to say something helpful and she'd start crying and close off again.

"Right, I uh, I need to get going." Elliot's words had struck a nerve with her, they were more or less the exact same that Sam had spoken to Susan when she was on the ward with Will's son.

"Connie-" He called after her pointlessly as she grabbed her bag and headed for the door.

"I'll be back tomorrow to check on Mr Strachan." Turning her professional voice and attitude on she disguised her cries well, pressing the button to let herself out of the ITU. She needed some fresh air.

She felt like she was suffocating.


	8. Chapter 8

***Thanks so much for the kind comments on twitter and also to those of you who habitually read and review. I continue because of you, so thank you! Also thanks to the majority who understand that I literally work 50-60 hours a week and cram in any writing when I can, so forgive me if I say I'll post and then don't (I usually fully intend to of course) but sometimes I just honestly do not have time. I appreciate you all, thank you! XX***

 _"Did you love him" A very forward question but he held his ground, watching her as she became still and silent before answering quietly._

 _"Yes." Her voice held a tiny hint of shame and embarrassment, he couldn't work out whether it was because she was confessing to having been involved with a married man or she felt vulnerable expressing such things to him._

 _"And I'm assuming he loved you too of he was prepared to leave his wife." Trying his hardest to see right through all that was wrong, he ignored his own morals and concentrated on trying to make her feel reassured. It had happened and it was irreversible, there was no going back so what good would come from making her feel guilty about it all. "So I don't see anything ridiculous about it. Love is love, Connie. You can't pick and choose who you fall for." There was another gap of silence before he spoke up again. "How long was thing going on between you both?"_

 _"A year, maybe a little less?" She shrugged to herself, her eyes still concentrating on the last of her food. "I don't know, it doesn't really matter now."_

 _"Of course it matters." Elliot said with disbelief. "That's an entire year of memories, Connie. Don't wipe them away, cherish them." His grey eyebrows were pulled together tightly, his own heart hurting for her. Second-hand pain, one might say. "Keep the memories alive, tell the little ones when they're older." His sweet speech was touching and warm but seemed to have an adverse effect on her as she stood up quickly, her hand raising to her eyes whilst she patted the tears away. He felt as though they were stuck in the same continuous cycle. He'd try to say something helpful and she'd start crying and close off again._

 _"Right, I uh, I need to get going." Elliot's words had struck a nerve with her, they were more or less the exact same that Sam had spoken to Susan when she was on the ward with Will's son._

 _"Connie-" He called after her pointlessly as she grabbed her bag and headed for the door._

 _"I'll be back tomorrow to check on Mr Strachan." Turning her professional voice and attitude on she disguised her cries well, pressing the button to let herself out of the ITU. She needed some fresh air._

 _She felt like she was suffocating._

* * *

"I guess I'm not on the other side then?" Sam's croaky voice startled a wistful Elliot as he stared blankly at the door closing shut upon her departure.

"Mr Strachan." He smiled widely and stood up to lean over him. "Welcome back, you certainly put us all to work last night." His crumby hand squeezed Sam's arm encouragingly. "Silly question really, but how are you feeling?"

"Like I've been butchered." He choked. "And stabbed as well." Smiling under his oxygen mask tiredly, he could still make wisecracks even after major surgery.

"Very funny, well I'm glad you've still got your humour because you've got a long road of recovery ahead of you." His face turned from cheery to slightly sympathetic.

"Did she do a good job on me?" He'd reached up and removed the mask slowly, glancing down at his chest attempting to see the aftermath of the attack but he could see nothing and Elliot was already trying to lay him back down.

"Actually Mrs Beauchamp didn't operate, it was me."

"She found me-"

"Yes, she did." He interrupted, a proud look on his face. "And if she hadn't, God knows what the outcome would have been." Raising his brows he stepped back from the bed to grab his chart. "We thought it'd be best of I operated, it seemed unethical for her to, especially with what happened with Will-" He cut himself off immediately, his eyes closing slowly with nothing but pure regret.

"I know there was something going on with them." His voice was raspy, like he'd been ill for weeks. "Did she operate on him?" Elliot didn't answer him verbally, he merely nodded in a very small and very sad manner. "And she blames herself?"

"It'd be hard not to, don't you think? But, no matter what she believes, it wasn't her fault. The same results would have occurred even if myself or another surgeon had performed the procedure. His injuries were simply too extreme."

"I'm surprised she didn't jump at the chance to off me and make it look accidental." He winced as soon as the words left his weary mouth. "I didn't mean it like that-"

"I know." Elliot eased his embarrassment. "You know, she's been sat by your side all day?" His eyes moved from her empty chair and back to the door. "She just left before you woke up. She'll be back tomorrow to see how you are, she's taking some time off. Very unwillingly, might I add." He smiled warmly at Sam's surprised face before trying to divert the conversation back to Sam and his injuries. He spent a good amount of time explaining exactly what had happened to him, what they'd done in theatre and how he should go about with his recovery. Thankfully the attacker had been arrested and was to be dealt with, which was a huge comfort to everyone but more so Sam. He thanked Elliot continuously, a look a pure gratitude on his face each time he uttered the words.

"When can I be discharged?" He finally asked, just as Elliot was packing up his files and various other bits and pieces.

"You'll have to be kept in for a couple more days I'm afraid, I know it's not ideal but it is absolutely necessary." His smiled apologetically, noting the disappointed look on Sam's face. "We contacted your Mother but-"

"She didn't answer." He interrupted, completely Elliot's sentence. "She and my step-father are in Canada, a three month trip they've been planning for over a year." He smiled genuinely. "I'll contact them when I can, they don't need to panic or worry. I'm fine and it'll only spoil their holiday."

"well, I hate to say it but you'll need someone to help out with any heavy duties at home. You shouldn't be exerting yourself for the next few weeks at the very least."

"It's fine, I'll give my brother or sister a call. Between them I'm sure they won't mind looking after their baby brother for a couple of weeks."

"If that doesn't go to plan, please let me know." He urged seriously. "I can sort something out for you, okay?"

"Thanks, Elliot." He croaked, beginning to look tired which was Elliot's last cue to leave. He was already on his way out anyway but took that as his final call.

"Not a problem, now you get some rest. I'll pop in again tomorrow and see how you're doing." With one last smile he left the young registrar alone, swimming in thoughts. Both good and bad. He couldn't remember too much of the attack if he was being completely honest, just scraps of images coming together rather disjointedly. He could remember feelings more than anything. The sharp pain and relentless struggle for air and finally, her warm hand cupping his neck and face. Squeezing his hand reassuringly as they travelled down the corridor and that was it. That's all he could recall, truth be told he wasn't sure he wanted to remember anything else, all he needed to know was that it had happened and he was fine.

* * *

"What are you still doing here, Connie?" He questioned sternly, re-entering their office, it was now getting close to nine o'clock and she was supposed to be at home resting, not sat at her desk at work.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"No, you couldn't." He argued. "I'm not pregnant with twins and signed off on sick leave, _you_ are."

"Alright, please, keep your voice down." She glared at him as she stood up to grab her coat. She hadn't been doing any work, she was just sat quietly in her office, contemplating.

"Sorry." Murmuring softly, he closed the door silently, offering her a truly sorry expression before he began searching his desk. "I came back because I got to my car and realised I'd left my keys in here-"

"I know." His head snapped up at the metal jangling sound, she'd found them on top of his paperwork and was patiently awaiting his return. "You'd forget your head if it wasn't screwed on." She offered him a weak but honest smile as he took them embarrassedly.

"It's been a long day, go easy on me."

"I don't know, you've been grilling me pretty hard." Making eye contact with him, she made him feel bad instantly.

"Alright, I get it. I'm overbearing and perhaps I get a little carried away, I just-" He paused sadly. "I just worry about you, that's all. It's not a crime, is it?" Raising his brows sweetly she couldn't help but shake her head, attempting to hide a smile.

"Look, all I'm saying is just back off a tiny bit, okay? Being smothered isn't something that sits well with me." Laying down the law in an incredibly calm and kind manner, he could do nothing but nod understandingly. He knew all along his approach wasn't correct for Connie but that's just how he operated, he could alter his methods depending on the individual at hand but Connie was the most complex of creatures he'd ever come across.

"Roger that." He beamed, holding his satchel close to his characteristically large belly. "I'll give you the space you need so long as you promise to sing out if you need anything, even if it's just a chat?"

"I think I can manage that." Rubbing his arm with a grateful yet small smile, the room fell quiet again.

"He's awake, by the way. He came to right after you left." He studied her reaction, continuing to talk when she said nothing. "He was asking about you, why don't you pop in on your way out?"

"No, no, he's probably tired. I'll, uh, I'll just see him tomorrow if I come in." She shut down the suggestion immediately. Now that the moment was here, she was apprehensive about approaching it. With only haunting memories of Will's last moments scarring her mind, she was too afraid to have to deal with that again.

"Alright, well take it easy tonight-"

"Elliot." She warned, causing him to raise hands in surrender at the door.

"I know, I know, I'm smothering you. Sorry." With a small head bow, he flashed her another smile before grabbing the handle. "Goodnight."

She left shortly afterwards, not particularly wanting to head back to an empty house but she'd definitely be lying if she said she wasn't looking forward to a nice warm bath. It was bliss, living up to her expectations well and truly. With a towel wrapped around her hair and her dressing gown pulled snugly around herself she pulled the plug out and got ready for bed, her body was almost aching for it. Once tucked up and settled she found herself getting frustrated at her inability to find sleep, it was the same situation _every, single night_. Almost as if she was battling with her own mind. The last couple of days had been one hell of a roller-coaster. She felt emotionally and mentally drained. How was one person supposed to tackle all of this alone? Not just the fact that she was carrying twins but everything else she had going on at the moment as well, she was still wrestling with the grief of losing her lover, her colleague had just had an extremely close brush with death and atop all of this her brain was still scarred with the images of both. Every time she closed her eyes, it's all she could see.

The logical component of her brain was repeatedly telling her to pull herself together. Will was never coming back no matter how hard she ached for him. He was gone. But her heart couldn't let go that easily. Perhaps Elliot was right, life is _so_ incredibly precious. The last couple of weeks and days in particular had only highlighted that fact. And now, within her she carried two other tiny, delicate lives. That still didn't make it easy to come to terms with, she was going to struggle she knew that much for sure but she'd be damned if she let anything happen his children as well. These were lives she _could_ protect and she'd die doing so if it ever came to that.

* * *

 _"I love you." He whispered shakily before gasping, his body quivering and covered in blood. "I needed you to hear me say it before-"_

 _"No." She cut him off, shaking her head in defiance before moving her gaze from his eyes down to his chest where the thick scaffolding pole was penetrating his body. "Don't you dare finish that sentence." Whispering back, she started to struggle with her emotions upon feeling his hand settle on top if hers. "You're going to be fine, I won't let you leave me like this." Her eyes reconnected with his, squeezing his hand. "Besides, you owe me a new shirt. Look at the state of this one now." She smiled at his attempt to laugh before it turned into a cough. "Just, hang tight, we're getting you out of here. I promise." The silence between them was filled with people yelling outside of the fallen rubble, the rain was coming down hard offering aid in keeping the dust levels down but they were dry and sheltered beneath the wreckage of the building. "I love you too." Her words were so quiet it's almost as if she'd never said them but he squeezed her hand twice sweetly. He'd heard all four words._

She awoke in a panic, her breathing fast and harsh as she sat upright in the visitor chair. It took her a few moments before she finally realised where she was. A warm hand wrapping around her hand further startled her. It was Sam, his calmness counteracting her panic as she continued to try and get ahold of herself.

"Is everything alright? Should I call for someone?" His voice was dry and scratchy, as though he'd been poorly with a cold.

"No." She breathed, her hand coming up to her chest as she finally sorted herself out. "No, I'm fine, just had a surreal dream that's all." Clearing her throat, she sat back, moving out of his sweet grip before changing the subject. "How are you feeling?" Her eyes fell on him once again, she'd been there all afternoon and he'd been asleep the whole time allowing her to catch up on some well-needed rest of her own since yet again she got barely any the night before. They hadn't spoken since before the attack and luckily, unlike her, he wasn't socially backwards and fell easily into conversation.

"Invincible." He smiled, in turn causing her to do so also as she shook her head at how his spirit remained un-dampened by recent events in his life.

"Well, you're not." She lowered her eyes. "So next time you decide to play the hero, just remember that."

"You think I'm a hero." He grinned stupidly and for the first time since Will passed, she actually smiled genuinely.

"I think you're a fool, that's for certain. But in a way, I suppose I could stretch it to hero." Their smiles remained for a moment, the silence washing over them again.

"And you're feeling okay?" Her sudden head jerk at his forward question alerted him to how it sounded, forcing him to elaborate. "Elliot said you were taking some time off?"

"Ah, yes." She relaxed again. "I, uh, just need a week or two to wind down a bit." His face remained inquisitive, despite her answer. Deep in his brain he couldn't stop thinking about her results that he'd not so accidentally seen. If she was pregnant there was a high chance it could be his baby, but wording that into conversation was damn near impossible. And why was she really having time off? Was it to do with the pregnancy? Was is exhaustion? He couldn't help but notice how fatigued she'd been looking over the last few weeks.

"I wonder how Darwin will manage without it's leader?" He changed the subject, suddenly aware of the growing silence.

"Elliot will cope just fine, I trust him completely. However, I'm sure my office will suffer his homely touch of mess and food wrappers." Her face grimaced at the thought of her beautifully clean office housing Elliot and only Elliot over the next couple of weeks. She only hoped Joseph might feel obliged to keep things tidy during her absence.

They talked for a few more minutes, struggling to keep the conversation moving as both of their minds were wandering into their own troubling thoughts. Sam hadn't wanted to admit it but he was feeling apprehensive about being discharged, whilst Connie couldn't shake her mind from her own situation. She knew after her three weeks off her pregnancy would be visibly obvious and as an incredibly private person the thought of this big news being on show for everyone to see and speculate about was causing her some stress.

* * *

Her three weeks of _resting_ dragged by slower than any other time she could recall, being off duty and putting her feet up was not something she was used to and nor would she ever like to get used to it. Working and keeping her mind sharp were top priorities for her, hence why she was arguably one of the best cardiothoracic surgeons in Europe. She was more or less chomping at the bit now, eager to get back to work. Although she'd initially been sceptical of the effectiveness of having time off, she'd be telling an awful lie if she said she didn't feel refreshed or recharged after it. Although still grieving, her body had found time to catch up on _much_ needed sleep, a more adequate diet and of course, now that she was aware of her condition, she was obviously steering clear of any alcohol. The latter alone had caused a huge change in her mental wellbeing. After all, alcohol is a depressant, it was only magnifying her grief tenfold after the numbness she sought wore off.

Fixing her lipstick in her rearview mirror, she took a deep breath before reorganising her coat and blouse. A vain attempt to conceal her small bump. She had her first official scan this afternoon and she was more nervous about that than returning to work. She basked in the silence of her car for another few minutes before biting the bullet and heading inside. She received a few _welcome back_ comments from the odd staff member on her way up to Darwn, everyone seemed to assume she'd been away somewhere nice and exotic when in reality she'd been at home the entire time.

"Connie!" Elliot beamed from the nurses station. He could see an immediate difference in her, he couldn't tell whether it was the pregnancy glow or the fact that she'd caught up on sleep and had finally been eating properly. Either way he was ecstatic. "Welcome back." Shuffling out to walk with her to their office, he kindly opened the door ahead for her, closing the door as soon as they were inside.

"Thanks." She smiled, setting her things down cautiously. "Well, I see the ward is still standing and fully functioning."

"Of course, I took very goof care of it in your absence. It's good to have you back."

"One more day away I'd have lost my mind completely. The insanity of this place keeps me sane." She shrugged out of her coat, hanging it up before draping her stethoscope around her neck and sitting at her desk with a sigh. "And Mr Bryne hasn't cracked under the pressure without Mr Strachan here?"

"No, no, he's done surprisingly alright actually." Taking a seat behind his own desk he started cleaning his glasses quietly before speaking again. "I'm sure he'll be grateful of Mr Strachan's return next week, as will I." He smiled. "The workload will diminish somewhat and all will be right again."

"Next week?" She questioned with concern. "You don't think that's too soon?"

"He'll have had four weeks of recovery, he can come back on light duties to begin with and then head back into theatre once he's back to full strength."

"Alright, ease up on the orders." She smirked slightly. "You're not in charge anymore." Standing up again, she prepared herself to storm the ward once more. Her bump was extremely well hidden but Elliot knew it was there and despite her previous warning for him not to smother her, he couldn't help but ask.

"You're, uh, due for your twelve week scan soon I would imagine?" His smiled faded upon noticing her movements slow as her body stiffened, she avoided his gaze, instead readjusting her stethoscope for a third time.

"Yes, actually." She finally began talking after what seemed like a lifetime of silence. "I'm booked in this afternoon."

"You're going alone?"

"Well, I don't see who else you expect me to take." Becoming snappy, she tried to rein herself back in. She was still understandably sensitive about the fact the Will wasn't here for any of this.

"I was just going to offer to come along, you know, if you wanted some company?" His words were soft again, treading carefully but he knew what he was doing. He could almost feel her begging for him to ask, not wanting to have to physically ask him herself and appear _weak._

"I don't care, either way." She shrugged him off, a great performance he couldn't deny but he could already see her relaxing knowing that she had someone to accompany her now.

"I'd love to, what time is the appointment?" He ignored her snippy attitude as he began to snack on a packet of pretzels he'd pulled out his pocket.

"Four O'Clock." She turned on the spot at the door, her face looking more like it's normal glowy self again. "And if you're late I'm going in without you." Still maintaining her cool act, she left him to crunch away on his food, he couldn't help but smile at how well she thought she'd pulled that off. He could read her like a book.

* * *

He was ten minutes early in fact, that's how seriously he was taking this because he knew she'd live up to her threat and head in without him otherwise. But he didn't want her to feel alone, he set out as he meant to go on, showing her that he'd be there if she needed anything at all. She was sticking to her performance particularly well, wanting him to think she was only letting him attend for the sake of it but deep down she was feeling anxious. The normal, standard worries plaguing her mind. Was everything going well so far? Had her actions in early pregnancy caused any complications? Her worrisome mind was interrupted by Allison, the sonographer set to perform the ultrasound.

"So, is this the first pregnancy for you both?" She asked sweetly as Connie tried to lay as comfortably as possible, her head immediately turning to face the middle-aged woman.

"What? No-"

"Heavens, no, I'm just a friend here for support!" Elliot's voice chimed in over the top of Connie's, a small laugh escaping him at the shock of being mistaken for her partner. Connie looked as equally amused, once the shock wore off of course.

"I'm sorry, I just assumed!" She laughed too, grateful that they'd seen the funny side although initially Connie did look a little murderous but the humour eventually found her.

"Yes, I imagine you'd have some interesting couples to deal with." He offered the sentence to relax the situation again as she spread the gel on Connie's abdomen.

" _Interesting_ doesn't even begin to cover it." Shaking her head with a smile, she turned her attention back to the screen as she moved the probe around on her stomach gently. Soon enough their heartbeats were filling the small room delicately. "There we are, two little heartbeats. They both sound good and strong." This time Connie felt as though she actually _wanted_ to see the screen, she'd had time to come to terms with it all unlike the first time Elliot scanned her. The screen was still facing Allison, she was concentrating hard and leaning closer to the screen as she rolled the probe over the same area of Connie's midsection repeatedly. Throwing Elliot a concerned look she could feel her own heart starting to beat faster, he offered her a supportive smile from where he sat until Allison's voice disturbed their wordless conversation. "I'm just going to pop out for a minute, I won't be long."

"What is it?" She asked quickly, not really certain she wanted an answer. "You said they both sound good, is something wrong?"

"Connie, I'm sure it's fi-"

"No, no something's not right." The panic was kicking in slowly but surely as she cut Elliot off, she _knew_ something wasn't right.

"They're both perfectly fine, I just need somebody else to come take a look, that's all. Okay?" Neither could argue as she left, if anything Connie was relieved somebody else was coming in for a second look.

"It'll be alright, they just need to double check more things with twins and triplets." He stood up to stand by her side, rubbing her arm sweetly. She didn't speak again, waiting with baited breath until Allison returned with a well presented man in his late forties by the looks of it.

"Mrs Beauchamp, nice to meet you." His voiced boomed, a large hand reaching out to shake hers before moving around to the screen. "I'm Dr. Thompson, how are you doing today?"

"Well, I was fine until about ten minutes ago." She growled, her anxiety getting the better of her.

"Allison just wanted me to come take a look at you for a couple of reasons." He was straight to the point, which suited Connie greatly. Turning the screen around to face her, he replaced the probe back onto her middle. "She gave me the run down on the way here, so I have a rough idea of what I'm dealing with. Now, during the ultrasound you had at nine weeks it says in your notes that one of the twins was slightly covered by the other. This in itself is very normal, nothing to worry about."

"So then what is it?" She pried, desperate for the point to finally be stated.

"They've moved to a more ideal position, allowing us to get a better look at them." He moved his right index finger up to the screen. "This one here, we'll call baby number one for now, looks to be the right size for the gestational age but this one-" He moved his finger to the second foetus on the screen. "Baby number two, is a considerable amount smaller."

"You think it's twin to twin transfusion?" Her throat was dry and her body numb.

"Initially, yes." He admitted firmly. "But there are definitely two placentas visible, indicating they're fraternal twins, non-identical. Had they been identical and sharing a single placenta then yes, I'd almost bet on it being twin to twin transfusion."

"So you have no idea?"

"I have an inkling that I wouldn't normally share with an expecting Mother until I was _absolutely_ sure, but you're pretty up to scratch on all things medical so there's no hiding anything from you I'd guess?" He smiled briefly at Elliot nodding with a warning look on his face.

"Don't mess about, just tell me what you're thinking?" Her voice was low and serious, she was mentally and emotionally unprepared for any more heartbreak.

"Baby number one is measuring right on the mark for twelve weeks, baby number two is smaller and less developed measuring at a gestational age of around seven maybe eight weeks."

"Yes, I understand that one is smaller than the other but what _exactly_ does that mean?" She was getting short tempered and irritable, she just wanted straight answers not long-winded and sugar-coated responses. She wiped the gel off with the paper towel he'd handed to her before he began packing away the probe and turning the screen off.

"I'm going to run some more tests to rule everything else out but might I be mistaken in thinking you've been sexually active in the last twelve weeks?"

"Sorry?" Her face wrinkled up, baffled at where the hell he was taking this theory of his as Elliot shifted uncomfortably after retaking his seat in the corner.

"Have you engaged in sexual interc-"

"Yes I know what you meant! But what the hell does that have to do with this?" She snatched her blouse down again, covering her bump as she avoided eye contact with Elliot.

"Have you or haven't you?" Keeping his manner pleasant, he still managed to reciprocate her shortness.

"Yes."

"Can you give me an approximate date?"

"What is this? My life in men?" Staring at him she couldn't help but laugh humourlessly. "I can't believe this-"

"Connie, please, this might help to understand what's going on." Elliot's soft voice interjected, immediately getting through to her but it didn't diminish her frustration. Her loud and aggravating huff indicated this to both him and Dr. Thompson as she tried to think back to when it was that she and Sam had shared a bed. Both times.

"Twice during the same week, maybe six or seven weeks ago? I don't know, I don't exactly mark it down on a calendar." She spat angrily before looking up at him. Her face relaxed instantly with the realisation of where this was going. "No, no that's not possible-"

"Superfetation, it's rare but not impossible." He spoke over her calmly, understanding that this suggestion was going to be met with this kind of reaction.

"Wait a minute." Elliot spoke whilst standing slowly. "You're talking about a second pregnancy occurring, whilst already being pregnant?" His face was contorted with confusion, his brain positively shocked at what he was hearing. "Two separate conceptions at different times?"

"I know it sounds beyond the bounds of possibility but I _have_ seen it before. It's _incredibly_ rare but it can and does happen." He looked from Elliot back to Connie who was completely silent, shaking her head whilst her hand massaged at her temple and forehead.

"How certain are you?" Keeping her questions concise, she exhaled sharply.

"I'm ninety-nine percent certain this is the explanation."

"And the other one percent?" She was clutching at straws, admittedly, but there _had_ to be another explanation.

"The other reason could simply come down to the fact that they are fraternal twins, they inherit different genes from both parents meaning they can grow at different rates but the difference between your babies is a significant one, hence why I believe what we're looking at here is an extremely rare case of superfetation. If they were identical and sharing a placenta, this could easily be down to twin to twin transfusion or even the possibility of the placenta not growing large enough to provide a sufficient amount of oxygen and nutrients to both foetuses. But these two alternatives are ruled out since your babies have separate placentas." Her mind was spinning with his words echoing in her ears. Her chest tightened as she tried to get her head around it all.

The second baby, the smaller one, was none other than Sam Strachan's.


	9. Chapter 9

"It's good to have you back." Chrissie smiled sweetly, rubbing his arm once everyone had dispersed. It was Sam's first day back and the majority of Darwin staff, and even some Keller staff, had congregated around the nurses station to welcome him back. Balloons, banners and everything. They were having a more enjoyable celebration in the bar after work, no drinks for Sam of course.

"Thanks, I was beginning to get a bit restless." His warm smile disappeared slightly, causing her some concern. "I just want to get stuck back in, forget any of this ever happened."

"Yeah, well, I'm not surprised." She soothed softly, her eyebrows framing her blue eyes worriedly. "Take it easy today, yeah?" She smiled upon seeing him nod in response. "I'll see you in the bar after work." Giving his hand a supportive squeeze she grabbed her patient files and continued on with her ward rounds, leaving Sam to fester with his thoughts.

"Ah, Mr Strachan!" Elliot bellowed cheerfully like Darwin ward's very own Father Christmas. "Nice to see you back in action, you're on light duties I imagine?" He joined him behind the nurses station. No matter _where_ he travelled, crumbs seemed to follow him everywhere. Sam identified what seemed to be croissant flakes littering his upper shirt this morning.

"The lightest." He spoke with a dull drawl, one side of his mouth turning up into a smile. "I believe I'm assisting you today?" He questioned carefully, his mind desperate for answers.

"Yes, I think you might be right. The key word here being _assisting._ We don't want you overdoing it on your first day back now, do we?"

"Of course not." Smiling briefly, he quickly dove right into his next question. "But why is it I'm assisting you today?" His brow furrowed with intrigue. "Why not Connie? I mean, I am _her_ registrar."

"I get the impression you're not too keen on me, Mr Strachan." He faked a hurt tone of voice, finally dusting the food mess off of his shirt having only just spotted it.

"No, no, nothing like that-"

"I was joking, Sam." He raised a brow, not quite kicking off this partnership in the best way he could have. "Look, it's nothing personal, or even anything of any meaning." He motioned for him to follow as they started to make their way over to their first patient. "Mrs Beauchamp has a high profile procedure this afternoon, and rather a long one at that so we thought it best Mr Byrne assists her today-"

"But I'm far more competent than Joseph, both you and Connie know that-"

"And once again, I speak on behalf of Mrs Beauchamp and myself, it's _nothing_ personal." He stopped just outside of the bay containing their patient, his voice now hushed. "You've just experienced a major trauma, we need you to take things easy. It's not forever, you'll have a scalpel back in your hand soon enough. Just, not for the time being." His wide eyes peering over the frames of his glasses stared at him, waiting for a response before continuing. "Right, Alice Dennings, she needs a chest drain inserting."

"Can't wait." Sam sighed miserably under his breath before putting on his best false smile as Elliot pulled the curtain open. He couldn't help but wonder how long this day was going to drag on for.

* * *

Her exhausted brain felt like it was vibrating in her head, in fact she was almost certain she could hear it buzzing as she walked through the corridors. Her baggy scrubs working excellently at hiding her bump. Avoiding gossip in this place was a workout in itself and she wasn't ready for the news to be out in the open for everyone to know right now. With her left hand propped on her hip, her right one massaged her forehead before smoothing over the top of her short pixie hair cut and back down her neck as she made her way towards her office.

"I was wondering when I'd see you." Elliot stated warmly as she entered their work space, watching her close the door and head straight for her desk.

"Oh really? Why's that?" The lack of interest her words held made him frown, he was unable to utter a word for a moment or two as he studied her popping some painkillers with a bottle of water.

"Connie, you _know_ why?" There was a small silence again, her face clueless but he could see right through it. "It's Sam's first day back today, you haven't even made the effort to welcome him back."

"Yes, well, I don't know if it's escaped your notice or not but I'm a little preoccupied at the moment." She hurled her words at him venomously, instantly aggravated.

"What are you taking those for?" He chose to ignore her aggressive sentence, realising he'd get nowhere with her when she was in this sort of mood.

"Headache, backache." She trailed off before adding another one discreetly, and one hundred percent aimed at him and his incessant talking. "Earache."

"You'll at least make an appearance at the bar tonight, we're all having a drink to toast his good health-"

"I can't, I'm busy but give him my best." Her eyes never met his, scanning the notes before her as she answered him uncaringly. He was about to speak out in protest of her behaviour but seemingly decided against it. Instead he left without another peep, shaking his head to himself. As soon as he was gone, she stopped pretending to read, slumping back in her chair with a loud exhale. Once again rubbing her forehead with the hope that it would banish this headache once and for all.

It didn't. And neither did the two nurofen she'd knocked back. The recent news revealed after her scan was brutally plaguing her mind, it was almost as if her brain was trying to get her to acknowledge it, fighting her with a headache but she continued to ignore it. She wasn't addressing it nor was she accepting it. She was acting out against her staff still, she knew it was awful and uncalled for but she needed some sort of outlet for all of this anger and upset.

"Mr Byrne." she warned once again, he eyes giving him a threatening look over her surgical mask. They were in theatre, her high profile procedure well underway and poor Joseph had walked right into her firing line and she wasn't letting up. "She's bleeding out all over the table, clamp the artery. _Now._ "

"I-I can't-" He was wrist deep in this unfortunate woman's chest, her blood coating his latex gloves as the sweat began to bead on his forehead. "I can't seem to locate it." His panicked voice didn't ring any sympathy bells within her, in fact it had quite the opposite effect. She was also tied up, performing internal massage on the heart whilst he fumbled around.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" She barked. "Would you like me to get a map of her chest out for you?"

"Connie." Dr Paul Rose, the anaesthetist, warned gently not wishing for World War Three to erupt before his very eyes.

"Can somebody page Mr Hope, please. In fact, why not page one of the porters, I'm sure they'd do a better job at this than Saint Byrne here." Her lip curled beneath her mask, an almighty fury building within her.

"No, it's fine, I can do-"

"Page Mr Hope, now!" She cut him off, shouting her order once again since nobody seemed to pay attention the first time.

Thankfully, the cavalry rode in, or more realistically Elliot rolled in with a calm demeanour and saved the day. Joseph stepped away immediately, the instruction was given loudly and very clearly by Connie in front of the whole surgical team. He wanted to stay and see out the procedure, watching and learning but the bollocking he'd just received had shaken him to his core. He had left in a hurry, his fists clenching and unclenching by his sides in a stressed manner. Their patient survived and was being wheeled out into recovery as Elliot and Connie exited after, both pulling their surgical caps off in a synchronised fashion. Elliot left his hair a tufty mess, shoving his cap into his pocket as Connie ran her fingers through hers, unflattening it whilst she let out an almighty huff.

"What the _hell_ do they teach in Med School these days? Hm?" Her jaw clenched, speaking again before Elliot could even begin to defend his registrar. "I expected more from a Byrne, what a let down that was."

"Connie-"

"No." She silenced him as they walked side by side. "No excuses, Elliot! What he just did in there was a major faux pas. He put my patient's life at risk as well as my reputation!" Her words had become more hushed as they entered the busier area of Darwin. Across the nurses station, Sam watched as they made their way through the ward. Connie looked beyond riled. "I do _not_ have time to babysit! He needs to step it up, or seriously consider stepping down!" She entered their office first, Elliot following closely behind with a worried look painted on his wise old face. Closing the door a considerable amount more softly than she'd opened it, he remained stood by the handle gingerly, his eyes watching her collapse into her desk chair angrily.

"He's got potential-"

"He's a waste of space, Elliot!" Her tone jumped in pitch, her fury peaking again much to his surprise. He honestly thought she was at level ten as it was, turns out she had a bonus level.

"I'm going back out to continue my rounds." His temperament was calm and cool. The way they both expressed their anger was that of complete polar opposites in every sense. She was extremely fiery and very quick to bite after barking whereas Elliot exuded this sort of cool energy, his stature collected and his voice cold with disappointment. "I'll come back later when you've calmed down."

"I expect that won't be for a while." She spat, getting the last word in before the door closed behind him.

And she was right. Her temper seemed to bubble all day long, anyone in her warpath was experiencing her wrath today. Her latest victim a new ward nurse named Maria. She was a jumpy little thing, extremely good at her job if not slightly clumsy and erratic at times. Regardless, she pissed off the Ice Queen on her first day and had fear quaking through her instantly. The confrontation lasted a mere ten seconds but it was enough to have her reconsidering her job here.

"Don't take it personally." Sam's warm, caramel-like voice soothed over her shoulder as she tried to scoop up all the notes she'd dropped. Her pale skin flushed red on the apples of her cheeks, her long red hair framing her sweet face nicely.

"Bit hard not to." She attempted a smile but looked hassled as she finally got to her feet, placing the files back on the nurses station desk. "Who pissed in her cornflakes this morning?"

"She rules with an iron fist, that's all." He smiled, their eyes finally meeting. He wasn't being flirty by any means but that's how it always came across. "Don't let it worry you. I can guarantee she's probably forgotten about it already."

"Still, great way to start my first shift." She muttered sarcastically, rolling her eyes with embarrassment. "I'm Maria, by the way."

"Sam." He smiled, shaking the hand she'd held out. "Nice to meet you, Maria."

"Hate to break up this introduction." Elliot shuffled close to them, looking over his glasses switching his gaze between them. "Mr Strachan, change of plan, Mrs Beauchamp has no more procedures this afternoon so you're in the clinic for the rest of the day and Joseph is with me." He folded his lips nervously. "I think it's for the best, just _don't_ over-do it."

"Scout's honour." He nodded before turning serious. "I take it Joseph had a rough time in theatre?"

"He was hauled across the whole fire, not just the coals." He growled, feeling quite bitter about the mishap that happened earlier in the afternoon. "Well, you know how she is." He added, aware of the fact Sam was well accustomed to her moods and quick temper.

"Even I know how she is and I've only been here twenty minutes." Maria interjected with a laugh, which soon trailed off when Elliot and Sam merely stared at her with expressionless faces. She blinked worriedly before muttering under her breath. "Wrong crowd." Clearing her throat, she announced her departure quickly. "Right, I, um, best get on then."

"Yes, you best had." Elliot added, watching her slink away with a cloud of regret following her. "I don't suppose you've seen Joseph, have you? I can't seem to find him and his pager's turned off."

"No, not since this morning, sorry."

"Right, well if he does cross your path, please tell him I'm looking for him."

* * *

Being in the clinic was even _worse_ than having light duties up in Darwin and unsurprisingly, he wasn't jumping for joy about having to head down there. He slowly made his way down the locker room, his brain repeatedly telling him this was only temporary. Entering the room, he smiled a tad at the sight he was presented with. Joseph was laying sparked out on the sofa, a regular occurrence as of late, a look of pure defeat on his face even whilst he slept. He felt slightly sad for the poor bloke, he was timid and nervous, no match for Connie as a mentor at all. In fact, he was more like fresh bait being dangled in front of her.

"Chin up, it might never happen." He chuckled, talking shit to wake him as he ritually did just to annoy him. Yanking his cranky locker open loudly he began rummaging through the contents noisily, something that really rattled Joseph's cage. No consideration at all. "Listen, I heard you took a bit of a beating from Connie earlier. She's scary, I know, but you can't let her make you cower." He bit into an apple, still ransacking his locker roughly. "You have to rise above it, Joey." Pressing all the buttons he could, he was attempting to keep the mood light. He didn't take things seriously, but Joseph did. This was his way of trying to pull the extravert out of him. Finally finishing his search for an oat bar, right at the bottom of his bag, he slammed the metal door closed and turned to face an irritated Joseph.

But today, that wasn't the case.

"Wow, she really knocked it out of you, didn't she?" He laughed, giving his arm a shake. "Elliot's looking for you too, by the way." His wide smile diminished slowly as he swallowed his mouthful of apple, shaking him with a more vigorous action this time. "Joseph." His eyes flickered over his body quickly before shaking him again. "Joseph." Nothing. His heart began pounding as he searched for a pulse on his neck. Again, nothing. "Shit!" Whispering angrily to himself he stood to go get help before a crunch under his foot echoed through his brain. Looking down at the shattered syringe beneath his shoe, he started sweating instantly. "No, no, no. What have you done? You bloody idiot!" He wasted no more time, darting out into the corridor and calling anyone to help. He just hoped he wasn't too late.

* * *

"How is he?" Elliot burst through the double doors dramatically, a look of pure concern and panic on his face. Sam immediately jumped up from his seat outside the ICU room where Joseph lay. Lord and Lady Byrne were inside with their son, hence why Sam had perched himself outside to give them some space.

"He's fine, he's okay." He breathed, trying to reassure him. "It was touch and go for a while but he's doing fine." His voice cracked with tiredness.

"A suspected overdose?" His eyes glistened with sadness, awaiting an answer.

"Yes, but we got to him just in time. Luckily."

"Intentional?"

"That's what they think, yes." He uttered lowly. Verbalising the fact that their colleague had just tried to take his own life hit them hard and painfully.

"Well done, Mr Strachan." He exhaled shakily. "Well done."

"Thank Mr Griffin, not me, I dread to think what the case would be if he hadn't been so close by."

"Regardless, he's okay, but I know one person who isn't to thank for that." His nostrils flared with rage, an animalistic look taking over his features and worrying Sam slightly. He was referring to none other than Connie.

"No, wait! Mr Hope, you don't-" His desperate pleas were falling on deaf and furious ears as Elliot set off marching down the corridor, Sam following in an anguished attempt to halt the slightly rotund surgeon.

"No, you _think_ I don't understand, Mr Strachan but I _do._ She cannot get away with this anymore." He bellowed, yanking the stairwell door open fiercely. "Enough is enough!"

Nothing Sam said or did could stop him from bulldozing his way downstairs, doors swinging in his wake. Sam looked like a little puppy dancing around him, talking incessantly to try and slow him down. But to no avail. Connie's office door was no exception in his door beating palms as he shoved this one open just as violently.

"Elliot! What the-"

"When will you learn?!" He roared loudly before Sam got chance to close the door and keep this explosive argument private. As soon as it was closed, the volume of his voice only seem to increase. Upon being accosted so aggressively, Connie stood to at least try and level the playing field. She'd dealt with far scarier men than Elliot Hope.

"I beg your pardon?" She scowled, confusion and vexation visible in her expression. Sam's throat felt dry as he remained in the corner, in all honesty he was slightly afraid. Even more so when she hit back again. "How dare you-"

"No! How dare _you!_ " He scorched, his normal cool anger taking the backseat, maybe even the boot in fact. She had never seen him this livid and she was feeling a mixture of shock and confusion, what the hell was he so angry about? "Do you have _any_ idea what you've done?!"

"Mr Hope-"

"Be quiet, Mr Strachan!" He bellowed over his shoulder causing Sam to clench his jaw and swallow hard. Confrontation from Connie he could take quite easily, but Elliot? That had knocked his socks off.

"Excuse me, can somebody _please_ explain to me exactly what the hell is going on here?!" Her tongue lashed at both of them, growing increasingly more aggravated by each passing second.

"How many times have I told you to stop whipping your colleagues with that viper like tongue of yours?!" He was really spitting mad, but she still had no explanation.

"Is this about Joseph again? Because I already told you-"

"Yes! He's a waste of space, I know!" He howled. "Perhaps you'll want to head down to the ICU and tell his parents that whilst they sit by his bedside?!"

"It's not her fault-" Sam tried once again to step in but he was slapped down by Elliot.

"Do _not_ defend her, Mr Strachan!" The men shared and testosterone fuelled stare-off whilst Connie's anger subsided, sensing something awful had happened.

"What's happened?" Her face relaxed from a furious frown into a concerned expression, her eyes darting between the two men.

" _What's happened_ , Connie, is your hurtful, cruel and quite frankly _disgusting_ display of anger towards Joseph has driven him to intentionally overdose!"

"Mr Hope, please-"

"Get out!" Elliot finally lost his rag well and truly, his fury now being unleashed on an undeserving Sam who surprisingly stood his ground firmly. Connie looked numb, her face deadpan and her posture no longer in a defensive stance for arguing. Her hand raising to her mouth with shock.

"Will you just shut up and _listen_ to me!" Hollering loudly, he could feel his heart racing and his own voice ringing in his ears. "I knew what he was doing!" A heavy silence fell over them like a blanket, Elliot still looking as rage-filled as an alcoholic being denied a drink and Connie now looking small and her bravado completely gone, an utterly regretful presence hanging over her. The silence rang out for a few more seconds before Sam spoke again, more calmly this time as he made his way on to the battlefield. He stopped when he got to Elliot's side, leading the fury-filled elder to look back at Connie then back at Sam. "I knew what he was doing all this time and I never said anything." He sounded breathless and emotional.

"What are you talking about?" Elliot's temper subsided immediately with this new twist.

"It's not Connie's fault-"

"I don't need you to fight my corner, Mr Strachan-"

"That's not what I'm doing!" He cut her off, growing frustrated with their inability to listen. "Joseph's been struggling." He started cautiously, his chest tightening with guilt. "This is what I was trying to tell you all the way up here." He glanced back at Elliot with annoyance. "A few weeks ago I caught him injecting-"

"What?-" Elliot gasped angrily but was cut off instantly.

"Just listen, please!" Exhaling deeply, he could feel Connie's glistening eyes flickering over the side of his face as he continued. "He panicked, understandably, then he told me it was for his OCD." He looked down sheepishly. "He's been injecting himself with fentanyl to help control it. There was a family tragedy a few years ago, he's been doing it since then."

"You mean to tell me you've known about this all along and never breathed a word to anyone?!" Elliot started up again, to his surprise, he thought it'd be Connie he'd have to shield himself from but she was as silent as a church mouse.

"I told him to stop, that I'd grass him up if I ever caught him doing it again-"

"Oh, how noble of you!" Elliot stated sarcastically.

"Elliot-" Connie started but was shut down.

"You're both to blame for this, and I hope you're happy now." His words were almost inaudible they'd become so quiet, a far sound from what they'd had been only moments ago. He didn't wait for further argument or excuse and left abruptly leaving the two of them in a deafening silence. Connie returned to her seat slowly and quietly, her eyes low and filled with remorse. Sam remained staring at the floor, his attention soon landing on her as she smoothed her hands over her face and exhaled loudly.

"It's not your fault." He stated quietly, leaning back to rest on the top of Elliot's desk.

"Even so, I shouldn't haven behaved the way I did towards him today." Her glum words were shy and soft, a tone he hadn't heard in her voice before.

"I'm more at blame here, I knew all along and kept his secret. I put his and other peoples lives at risk for the sake of not losing a friend or being coined a _grass._ "

"you should have told someone." She looked up at him, her expression calm yet burdened.

"I know-" He interrupted what he thought was about to be a lecture but she continued regardless.

"But it's not your fault either." His stony face softened, glancing at her with surprise. "I know of the family tragedy you mentioned, if he's been self medicating since then he was hardly going to stop at a stern telling-off from a colleague." They shared a warm silence, both feeling completely battered by the afternoon's events.

"What a first day back." His downhearted statement, caused her to look at him empathetically and for the first time they were glad of one another's presence.

* * *

"You don't need to protect anyone, Joseph." Elliot breathed sadly, he was sat by his bed in the ICU talking quietly. It was almost seven o'clock in the evening and he'd awoken a few hours ago, requesting to see Elliot once his parents had left. He was in the middle of defending the accused when Elliot had interjected.

"No, I'm not protecting anyone." His tired whisper sounded almost relieved that this messy situation had happened in a really fucked up way. He felt free, he wasn't hiding anymore. "Mrs Beauchamp had every right to act the way she did today." He pressed on slowly but surely, stopping Elliot from interjecting. "I was a mess, shaking like a leaf, not listening to her instructions, fumbling around like I had no idea what I was doing." He closed his eyes and shook his head gently as it lay on the pillow. "I was distracted and acting dangerously, that patient almost died because of me." Elliot swallowed sadly, his eyes watching him intently. "And Sam, he really ripped into me when he found out. Threatened to tell you and Mrs Beauchamp, called me a few expletives and told me to get help." His chin quivered with emotion. "He offered to get me some help, even come with me if I needed." He smiled tearfully. "I told him I'd kick it, that I'd get my head back in the game but I just - I couldn't do it." He sniffled abruptly, halting his sad paragraph. "So, like I said, I don't want any blame placed on _anyone_ this is all my doing, nobody else's."

They talked for a few more minutes before Sam appeared at the doorway, Elliot immediately stood to leave, giving Joseph an encouraging squeeze on his forearm before heading towards Sam. The two shared a knowing look as they passed each other in he door way. No words needed to be uttered, Sam interpreted the look exactly as Elliot had intended it. As an apology, and he accepted gratefully. He too stayed with Joseph for a while, exchanging their apologies and talking kindly before Joseph became too tired to keep his eyes open any longer, he was able to sleep easy with a clean slate approaching him and Sam left with a sense of peace.

Needless to say, Elliot had made his way slowly and hesitantly back up to his office. Half of him hoped Connie wasn't there but the better half of him hoped she was. He wanted to apologise for exploding the way he had. The better half of him was in luck, she was sat at her desk looking deeply distracted.

"I hoped you'd still be here." He shut the door cautiously, their office feeling like a safe haven compared to the war-zone it was a few hours ago. The soft glow of her desk lamp illuminating the small cozy room.

"If you've come back to pick-up where you left off, please can we reschedule because my head is pounding." She spoke without glancing at him, her gaze fixed on her computer screen.

"No, actually, I haven't."

"Oh?" She finally locked eyes with him. "An apology then?"

"I haven't come to apologise either." His voice became firm. "I _do_ regret losing my temper the way I did but I stand by what I said earlier today. Despite being corrected by Joseph, who's doing okay by the way." He threw in a dig at her apparent lack of interest in the young registrars well-being. "He wants no blame to be held over you or Sam, so I'll respect that but you _cannot_ continue the way you are." He studied her facial features, they looked considerably softer and more vulnerable when her guard was down. Part of him wondered if she was so cruel and icy to hide this fact, making her less of a easy target in the male dominated world of cardiothoracic surgery. An armoured front she'd designed to protect herself.

"I know, I called ICU to make sure he was okay." She spoke calmly and quietly. "And you're right." Swallowing hard, she continued. "I was too hard on him today." Looking down at her lap as she leant back in her chair she heard him making his way to his own desk chair, their conversation picking up as soon as he'd got seated.

"This anger has got to stop, Connie." He steadied his focus on her face. "And not just for those of us around you but for yourself too, and your unborn babies."

"Please-" She began to speak, intending to halt the conversation from heading in the direction of her pregnancy.

"No, I'm not going sit back and watch you fester from the inside like this. You say you're coping, that you're dealing with things but you're not."

"I'm dealing with it just fine." She argued back, not enjoying where this was headed.

"No, you're not, you're ignoring it."

"I'm not ignoring anything, Elliot." She shook her head and sat up straight, her small bump disappearing beneath her wrinkled scrubs.

"In five or six months you're going to have two tiny babies to care for-"

"Don't you think I know that?!" Her temper flared again, her voice raising a few bars in volume. "I wake up _every_ morning thinking about it and go to sleep _every_ night thinking about it. I am sick to death of you reminding me daily!" Standing up briskly, she made her way to the door. Tired of arguing this much in one day, she was the one trying to escape for once. Usually she'd be the one left fighting until death but she couldn't face any more today. His glistening eyes followed her to the door, he spoke as soon as she put her palm on the handle realising she was really about walk out.

"What is it that you're so afraid of, Connie?" His voice was so soft and gentle now, he was never normally an angry individual unless it was absolutely necessary. This particular situation, however, didn't require anger. Just his care and concern. He was soon silent as he witnessed her head drop back momentarily whilst she let out a dry and humourless laugh before returning her focus to floor in front of her feet, her fingers still wrapped around the door handle at the ready. Her face wasn't visible to him as she bit her lower lip in a desperate bid to fight back tears. She was so tired of crying. "You're grieving a loved one, you've had an incredible shock with this pregnancy, understandably it's a lot to try and deal with but you don't have to go it alone-"

"Oh really?" She finally turned to face him. "Because last time I checked, Will was still dead and buried by all accounts." Her voice was shaky as she choked back the tears, so far she was doing incredibly well.

"I'm here." He glanced down at his desk, shrugging lightly. "I know it's not the same but I'll be here, every step of the way. I won't let you do it alone, I promise." Switching his focus back to her, he awaited some sort of response but he didn't get one, she just kept her eyes low, her face appeared empty and tired. Don't be mistaken, she was very thankful for Elliot's presence but the thought of raising twins as a single mother was a terrifying thought, even for Connie Beauchamp. He swallowed hard before speaking again, a little more carefully footed this time. "And I'm sure if he knew about any of this, Mr Strachan would be there for you too." Her head jerked up instantly to face him, her mouth slack and her eyes darting worriedly across his as he just stared at her with that sweet look of his.

"How long have you known?" She finally asked after a few moments of panicked silence. Her voice was low and calm if not slightly teary.

"I worked it out this morning." Folding his lips together, he continued to study her as she inhaled deeply, letting out a long and shaky sigh before slumping into the couch near the doorway. "You've been avoiding him like the plague all day and the effort you went to this morning to reorganise the roster was a slight giveaway too. I'm an observer, I notice things." He tried to smile before turning to a more serious note. "Maybe you should speak to him-"

"No, he doesn't need to know anything about this." Stating firmly after rubbing her face with exhaustion she locked eyes with him again. "Not a word to anyone, do you understand?"

"Connie, he's the father of one of your babies-"

"And don't I know it?" She hissed ferociously. "It's on my mind night and day, the very fact will not leave me alone." Sighing loudly again, she leant forward and rested her elbows on her knees and rubbed at the sides of her head in a stressed manner. "No, no he doesn't need to know." She reaffirmed her wishes with the latter sentence but to her annoyance Elliot kept up with his pleas.

"He might be able to help-"

"Oh, really? Might he?" She pulled her head up, her tired eyes fixating on his and strong notes of sarcasm in her voice.

"Connie-"

"No! Please, Elliot! Do go on, I'm intrigued." She looked teary again, her body working in overdrive trying to keep her emotions settled. "What's he going to do? Move in and share the load? Change nappies? Do night feeds? Only one of them is his, what happens there? He'll be around in their life whilst the other one wonders where their Father is? Hm? Perhaps when I do have them I'll have to make sure they're labelled from the get go so there's no confusion about which one gets two parents?" Her words seemed to echo in his head. She'd obviously been stewing about this all week.

"That's not what I meant and you know it." Turning more surly he had to remind himself not to push her too hard, she was such a beautifully complex creature and sometimes he'd say or do the wrong thing and and either cause an explosive argument or she'd close up completely and become even more difficult. Currently she was doing both.

"Not to mention, if I tell him and he feels morally obliged to stick around then I'll be tied to him for the rest of my life."

"Oh, how grown up of you." He finally lost his temper, his voice becoming and dark and hoarse.

"Please, don't start on the Fatherly lectures, Elliot! I'm not a child!"

"Well, stop behaving like one then!" He raised his voice back, growing tired of the back and forth quarrelling they were doing. "It doesn't take a genius, Connie. If you can't deal with the consequences of your own actions then you should have used protection! The same goes for Mr Strachan. Regardless of whether you tell him, you're pregnant with his child. You can either swallow your pride, tell him and seek his support or carry on as you are and completely self-destruct." His words had gone from being fairly loud and angry to tender and hushed. "Because I'm here offering you my help and it's not enough, I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know what to say. I don't know how to help you if you won't let me." He trailed off, her face had softened considerably upon calling her out on her actions and ultimately making her feel small. "Then you really will be on your own." He let each of his sentences sink in before talking again. "Speak to him, he might surprise you and what have you got to lose? If you don't tell him, you'll never know. Perhaps you ought to give him the chance?"

As much as she wanted to fight his words, she couldn't. Deep down she _knew_ he was right, she was behaving childishly and selfishly. This situation was a direct result from her own actions and decisions. She had nobody to blame this on other than herself. She was _petrified_ about having these babies on her own, nothing she'd admit out loud but she allowed the feeling to stay present within and it was beginning to ingrain itself in her. His final point hit home the hardest, she had nothing to lose telling Sam, he could either be thrilled about it which she felt was highly unlikely, or he could run for the hills screaming. If the latter occurred, at least she could say she tried her best.

These thoughts continued to circle around and around in her mind as she made her way across the car park, her arms crossed tightly over her grey coat that was wrapped around her snugly. Her large handbag swung from her forearm as she finally reached the new hospital bar. She and Elliot had reconciled before she left, no doubt they'd argue about something else tomorrow but at least today's bickering was put to bed. As she got closer to the entrance she slowed her pace, her breath visible on the cold air whilst her scarf bundled around her neck kept her warm. The short pixie hair-cut she had offered little warmth to the back of her neck in these temperatures. She remained stood for a minute or so, the hesitance becoming greater until her brain convinced her to turn back around and leave.

"Didn't think you'd come." His warm, smooth words made her jump nearly all the way out of her skin. It was Sam, he was sat on the steps outside, alone and in the dark. Cigarette in his hand as he blew smoke up into the cool night air. She moved his way and perching on the step next to him without speaking a word.


	10. Chapter 10

_These thoughts continued to circle around and around in her mind as she made her way across the car park, her arms crossed tightly over her grey coat that was wrapped around her snugly. Her large handbag swung from her forearm as she finally reached the new hospital bar. She and Elliot had reconciled before she left, no doubt they'd argue about something else tomorrow but at least today's bickering was put to bed. As she got closer to the entrance she slowed her pace, her breath visible on the cold air whilst her scarf bundled around her neck kept her warm. The short pixie hair-cut she had offered little warmth to the back of her neck in these temperatures. She remained stood for a minute or so, the hesitance becoming greater until her brain convinced her to turn back around and leave._

 _"Didn't think you'd come." His warm, smooth words made her jump nearly all the way out of her skin. It was Sam, he was sat on the steps outside, alone and in the dark. Cigarette in his hand as he blew smoke up into the cool night air. She moved his way and perched on the step next to him without speaking a word._

It was nearing nine o'clock at night, his 'Welcome Back' drinks in the bar were in full swing and in true Sam Strachan style, had turned into more than just a few drinks. Yet here she found him, sat alone on the steps outside. She'd half expected to find Chrissie Williams latched on to at least one part of his body but she was inside, visible through the window moments before she sat next to him on the freezing cold stone step. All the noise trapped inside whilst they remained outside in the icy, quiet air. She'd been seconds away from leaving, having allowed Elliot's words to drill into her heart and persuade her to attend but last minute jitters got the better of her as she'd attempted to leave unseen. She was caught redhanded, by Sam himself. He looked half cut, disobeying all orders within his recovery plan.

"You've been drinking."

"I needed it." He slurred, his eyes half closed with the effect of alcohol. "I've had a shhhhitty day."

"You and me both." She smiled, her eyes were glassy under the moonlight. "Don't do that." She spoke in a hushed tone, taking the cigarette from his hand and putting it out under her own foot with a scowl. "I didn't even know you smoked."

"I don't. Well, I didn't. Maybe I do now?" He looked down, trying to find his glass of vodka he'd sneaked outside with him. As soon as he found it and raised it to his lips she wrapped her hand around it delicately, removing it from him as she had done the cigarette.

"What are you doing? You shouldn't be drinking in your state." She whispered more to herself than Sam, setting his glass down away from him on the other side of where she sat. He wasn't ridiculously drunk, just enough to make him sound a little delayed.

"Oh yeah, this." He slapped his chest hard, causing her brows to furrow with concern. "I forgot about that."

"Sam." She grabbed his wrist gently as he pulled back to do it again, preventing him from thumping his own healing chest wounds beneath his crisp white shirt.

"I haven't really." He let a small laugh out after a minute of quiet, even though there was nothing funny about it. "How could I? I wake up in the middle of the night, like I can _feel_ it happening all over again. Can't the images out of my head." His words were lazy and low yet his eyes remained slightly sad.

"You've been through-"

"Severe trauma, I know." He bit abrasively, but quickly backtracked after rubbing his face tiredly. "I'm sorry, I didn't meant to snap." Exhaling deeply he tilted his head back and looked up at the stars for a spilt second before returning his gaze to the row of street lights ahead of him. She remained quiet by his side, her own thoughts swarming her mind still. "It's just, you see people going through far worse yet I'm struggling with this?" He squinted, utterly confused by how this could even be possible. "I mean, I know it was physically quite traumatic but there's more awful things to be dealing with."

"Sam, you were violently stabbed, in the chest and heart no less. I think that's enough to warrant some sort of emotional outburst, don't you?"

"Not really." He shook his head, his gaze now on his hands as he fiddled with the end of his tie. His elbows were planted firmly on his knees, leaning on them for support. "Not when I look at Joseph, you know? What he's been through and the things he's done to cope with losing his brother." He folded his lips, shaking his head again. "And you." Her attention was immediately snatched in his direction, but she remained silent. "I truly take my hat off, to both of you. It's _t_ _hat_ kind of pain, to me, that warrants an emotional outcry. I couldn't even imagine losing someone I loved, I don't think I'd cope like you are." The harrowing silence that followed his hearty words rang out through the biting air, her eyes still pinned to the side of his face, glazed over with sadness.

"I'm not." Finally her whispered voice cracked with the heavy admission after what felt like a life-time of silence, pressing her lips together as if it would stop any tears from escaping. To a degree, it kind of worked but it was extremely obvious she was upset. He couldn't help but turn to look at her sat by his side, their shoulders touching lightly. Their heart to heart was disrupted loudly when the entrance door opened as Chrissie stumbled out, the music cascading out behind her.

"There you are!" She exclaimed as though she'd been looking for him for hours, in reality it'd been a mere few minutes. Just like that, Connie's brain took the wheel again and stopped her heart from pouring out all over the cold ground before her. At that very moment she'd been like a small, scared rabbit startled by a threatening noise. She'd been spooked. "Right, I, uh, think I should call it a night." She cleared her throat and stood up quickly, her arms crossing over herself, concealing her almost visible bump as she avoided his sympathetic gaze. "Perhaps you should do the same."

"Connie-" He stood too, calling after her but she'd already began walking away. He could do nothing but watch her leave whilst Chrissie tugged at his arm.

"I've been looking for you everywhere. You coming back to mine tonight?" She bit her lip, the fresh air failing to lessen the effect of alcohol on her. She was very easily swayed to start drinking, initially she'd been the one refusing to partake and had even scolded him for drinking. Almost three hours later though, and here they were.

"Yeah, why not." He mumbled through a pathetically forced smile. Anything to take his mind off of the awful flashbacks that wouldn't leave him alone. Not to mention the relentless thoughts about the fact that Connie was pregnant.

And there was a strong possibility it was his baby.

* * *

 _Her fingers traced over his warm skin, dipping and curving over the sculpted flesh. All the way down from his clavicle, over his pecks, down the middle of his chest before settling on his abdomen. The sheets partially covering them, framing their bodies like a haze of white clouds. It was pitch black in her bedroom but the moonlight beyond her window blinds allowed her enough light to see the silhouette of his muscular body as he lay on his back, sound asleep. Once again, she was left laying awake and unable to snooze. Positioned on her side, her leg was intertwined with his as she watched over him peacefully. Her eyes rolled over him with content, moving back over his body and up to his jaw. Her heart stopping when she saw Sam's sleeping face beside her._

"Connie?" Elliot called out again, quickly trying to calm her upon startling her so suddenly. She'd dozed off at her desk, her heart thumping as she tried to get her bearings after the extremely surreal and confusing dream. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." His eyebrows pulled together sympathetically. "You'd nodded off."

"Yes, sorry, I-"

"Don't be sorry." He interjected, waddling around to his desk as she sat up and rubbed her palm over the back of her stiff neck. "Fatigue is very common in-"

"Please, Elliot, do _not_ make a reference to me being pregnant. Or God help me, I won't be held accountable for my response." Her hushed, angry whisper was a _very_ clear warning. This became evident when he didn't follow through with his sentence, but instead proceeded to look at her blankly before opening his laptop.

"How did the board meeting go this morning?" He didn't look at her, his voice oddly obnoxious.

"Board meeting?" Her face screwed up but relaxed quickly as she stood up with a purpose. "No, no, no!" She whispered exasperatedly before finding her voice. "Elliot, what time is it?"

"It's twenty to nine, you've only missed about forty minutes or so." He glanced at his watch smugly as she ransacked her desk in a panicked frenzy. It was odd to see her off her game, normally he'd be concerned but he knew she was only experiencing the the symptoms of early pregnancy, regardless of whether she was accepting it. She'd have to acknowledge it sooner or later, the symptoms were only going to get worse. Especially carrying twins.

* * *

Hot-tailing it into the meeting she took five seconds outside the door to give herself a pep-talk, trying to make herself look un-rushed and completely calm. Entering casually, she felt everyone turn to stare in her direction.

"Apologies, I was tied up in theatre." She lied expertly, taking a seat next to Mark as the CEO continued where he'd left off.

"No registrar with you today?" He whispered over his shoulder as she glanced around with confusion. Sam should be here, obviously Joseph couldn't attend hence why Elliot wasn't here but where the hell was Sam? Normally registrars wouldn't attend board meetings but this one in particular was _aimed_ at registrars and how things could be tailored more to assist them in progressing in the chosen field of work.

"He's probably tied up somewhere." Making excuses for him, as usual, she quickly checked her phone. No messages or missed calls.

"What? You mean like you were?" He smirked, knowing full well she was bullshitting when she'd walked in. Her tired complexion alone told him that.

"I wouldn't laugh, Mark. The last time I saw him was yesterday evening and he was with your daughter." Beating him in the game of _throwing digs_ she sat back, ready to look as though she was pretending to listen to any of this pointless drivel, whilst Mark was left with his nose put out of joint.

After only fifteen minutes she was dangerously close to falling asleep again, her eyes felt as though they were weighted down with fatigue and her body was just craving all the sleep it could get. Another late-comer halted the talk again, Connie's sleepy state became more alert with the commotion of them entering. It was Sam and, in the nicest way possible, he looked like shit. His hair tufted all over the place and his shirt buttoned up completely wrong. It was yesterday's shirt too. For extra effect, a nice brown coffee stain marked his abdominal region too.

"Sorry I'm late." He muttered like a schoolboy who had misbehaved. "I was held up in theatre." His all too familiar excuse invited Mark to look back at Connie with a self-congratulatory smile. She could no nothing but squint with a small shake of her head as Sam pulled up a seat next to her.

"What have I missed?" He whispered, shuffling through his papers noisily. The smell of stale alcohol hit her like a train, her stomach somersaulting violently.

"Everything, now just pay attention." She managed to hiss before holding a hand over her mouth, mentally trying to talk her gag-reflex down. There was no way she was darting out of this room to throw up. It'd have tongues wagging within minutes. She'd never in her life prayed so hard for her bleeper to go off. She was squeezing it so tightly in her pocket, begging some form of higher power to remove her from this boxy room filled with pretentious arseholes.

Hallelujah.

It worked.

Someone up there was looking out for her. Don't be mistaken, she didn't for one second believe in that sort of thing. She was a logical thinker and had a practical mind but at the same time, it sort of soothed her to think maybe it could have been him, looking out for her from wherever he was now.

"Excuse us." She stated, standing up and giving Sam a look. "We're needed upstairs." Leading the way, she sighed a breath of relief, the corridor air was almost other-worldy. Fresh, even, in comparison to that stuffy meeting room. Walking ahead of him, she breathed deeply still wrestling with her stomach. It was totally a mind thing at the moment, certain smells in particular would have her heaving in seconds but if she focused on something else she could try and battle it out of her mind. As for food, that was another story. As long as no mushroom of any type or form came near her lips, she was happy or at least as happy as she could be. Even just the _thought_ of a mushroom. She shivered, going off track. Sam soon assisted her in the distraction unknowingly when he opened his mouth to speak.

"Sorry I was late, I-"

"It's fine." She cut him off, not interested in his excuses for once. "Just go and get cleaned up, please. You look like haven't even been home." She growled, obviously irritated.

"Well, actually I haven't been-"

"Stop." she turned around quickly after halting dead in her tracks. One hand on her hip and the other one nipping at the bridge of her nose for a split second as she mustered some calmness from within. "I don't need to know any details about your sordid evening, Mr Strachan. Just, find some new clothes and get on with your duties. You are an extension of _me_ when you step foot in this building, do you understand? So pull yourself together and at least start acting like a professional."

"Of course." He breathed defeatedly, watching her leave as he remained stood still. His feet glued to the ground. "Roll on, home time." Muttering to himself quietly, he rolled his eyes and did as he was told. A rare occasion.

* * *

She had planned to take it easy on him today, perhaps even try to talk to him gently, he was clearly battling some sort of inner demons in the aftermath of his attack. This was something she should be understanding of, what with everything she was enduring following the loss of Will. They were similar circumstances and thus seemed to be sharing similar symptoms of post-traumatic stress. But suddenly she found herself angry at him for something that he wasn't even in control of, something he wasn't even aware of. He was interfering with her memories. Clouding her vision of how Will was, how he looked, how he felt, all of a sudden Sam was forcing his way into her dreams and ruining it all. Of course, this was not Sam's fault yet she was feeling angry towards him about it. These dreams she'd have each night were all she had left of Will besides his over-sized NHS fleece. This morning wasn't the first time Sam had invaded them either and it was starting to cause her some grievance. Re-entering her office, she was relieved to find it empty. Her sigh bouncing off each of the four walls and hitting her back softly. She necked back a couple of glasses of water, her stomach finally settling. Popping the glass back down next to the water jug she turned slowly, catching sight of her reflection the floor length mirror. She wasn't a vain person but she liked to have one in case of emergencies, such as getting ready for last minute work events with little to no notice. Hence her rack of spare clothes hanging nearby. Studying herself closely she turned to the side, assessing just how obvious her bump was. She'd already gone up a size in scrubs for the pure purpose of disguising it, so far nobody seemed to question why her work-wear was almost drowning her petite frame. Frowning a little at the sight in front of her she grabbed her own green NHS fleece, shrugging into it quickly as a slight panic overcame her. She wasn't stupid, she _knew_ this was going to be extremely obvious in less than a fortnight or so but she didn't want to be out of this bubble just yet. She didn't want the whispering and allegations to start. She was a high-profile surgeon, a house-hold name within this hospital and although shit-talk and rumours never normally bothered her, it was different when it came to this. These were her unborn babies, the need and want to protect them from anything was becoming quite known to her. In a strange way it sort of calmed her, it meant she felt something for them, both of them. At least she'd tell herself this anyway. She played around with the fleece, zipping it and unzipping trying to find the best way for it to sit in order to mask her growing bump as excessive clothing. Finally, with it half zipped up to the bottom of her rib-cage, she tugged at the front of it a couple of times trying to force it to settle where she desired it to.

"Now that's a well covered bump if I ever saw one." Elliot stated cheerfully as he stepped into their office causing her to move to her desk with slight embarrassment. "Enjoy the privacy of it whilst you can." His unsolicited, yet sweet, advice made her clench her jaw.

"Believe me, I'm trying my hardest." She flicked him a look before turning her gaze to the files before her.

"I know, I know." He held his hands up in surrender, one holding onto a pie quite protectively. "I go on at you, and you get annoyed with me and so forth but soon enough people will start to notice you know? You can't hide it forever." He too made his way over to his desk, sitting down on his swivel chair comfortably.

"Really? Hadn't even crossed my mind." Her dry, dull tone made him feel slightly repetitive. He knew he was pestering her but he couldn't help it. No matter how much she voiced her anger about it, protested it and _yelled_ at him about it, he just could not stop it. He had a kind and caring nature, almost always instantly being drawn to those who seemed to require his care. Like a fairy godfather, if you will. No matter how much the recipient expressed their objections. He always knew deep down that they needed him.

"I'm just saying." He started, in attempt to justify his incessant badgering. "It's going to happen sooner or later, why not let it be on your own terms?" There was silence as she stopped typing furiously. He had an extremely valid point. He could almost see it mulling over in her mind as a less hostile energy infiltrated the room as a result. "So, fun meeting this morning?" A change of subject, he decided.

"It was a blast." Her face didn't alter and nor did the tone of her voice, matching her sarcastic words perfectly. "Thanks for bailing me out." Finally a more sincere sentence was directed his way. Referring gratefully to his fake emergency he'd bleeped her for.

"Thought I should put an end to your suffering, the print-out was emailed to me and it looked boring to say the very least." He stood up to grab the ketchup located beside his computer. Yes, Elliot Hope had condiments in his space of work. She couldn't refrain from looking disgustedly at him. I mean, honestly, a pie at this time in the morning? With her face still wrinkled with pure horror as she watched him eat, trying to move the conversation onwards.

"How's Joseph doing?"

"Fine." He smiled, sauce patterning his short grey beard. "He's making progress, if all goes well with psych today then he'll be discharged at the end of the week, with regular follow-up appointments of course."

"Right, good." She nodded, silence wallowing over them again. His loud chewing filling the empty quietness quite repulsively.

"And Sam?"

"Yeah, good." She kept it short, not wanting for him to continue talking with his mouthful.

"He looked a little peaky on his way past this morning, not that I got a good glimpse." He smiled. "He was in rather a rush, more or less threw his coffee all over himself and one of the nursing staff."

"Yes, well, just as well he's on light duties." She huffed. "A registrar with a hangover usually means a migraine for the consultant."

"A hangover?" He questioned worriedly, smacking his lips together hungrily between bites and words. "He shouldn't be drinking."

"Try telling him that." She grimaced and stood suddenly, no longer able to cope with his food and eating antics. "Look, I'm sorry, I'm obviously interrupting your mid-morning snack or second breakfast or something here." She motioned emphatically in his direction, his chewing finally stopping as his eyes scanned her body language. She looked grey with nausea. "I mean, what even _is_ that, Elliot?" She raised the back of her hand to her mouth, as if shielding herself from it, fearful it would somehow leap from his hand and try to enter her own currently delicate digestive system.

"Sorry, I should've thought. It's steak, kidney and mushroom. Did you want one?" He never received an answer, instead she bolted from the room, a fast walk however, not a sprint. Unfortunately for Sam, he was more or less at the door ready to knock when she flew out, clipping his side as she made a bee-line for the toilets.

"Ah! Again?! Seriously?!" Shouting at nobody in particular, he looked down at his nice clean shirt, covered in hot coffee once more as she knocked it from his hand. This was going to be a long and tedious day.

* * *

Luckily her bout of morning sickness was a hit and run, walloping her just the once. She rinsed her mouth out in front of the mirror taking a few deep breaths before heading back out on to the ward.

"Better?" His voice startled her as she exited. Was he waiting for her? He was stood leant with his back against the wall and wiping at his shirt angrily. He only seemed to be making it worse though.

"Fine. You don't look too flash yourself." Commenting on his own dishevelled appearance she continued walking and thus he followed as usual.

"Well, that was my last shirt." He stated, finally giving up with wiping at it with the wet paper towel, tossing it into the bin as he proceeded to flatten his tie back down as if that even mattered now. "So, as an extension of you, I apologise about my appearance."

"I have a spare shirt in my office." She re-routed them, heading back through the rabbit-warren-like corridors and winding back up at the door bearing her name, Elliot's sitting beneath it in a less majestic fashion.

"Not to sound ungrateful but I'm not so sure one of your shirts is going to fit."

"Not _mine._ " Her tone of voice warped irritatedly as she closed the door gently, Elliot was gone again and so was his pie. Thank the heavens above. "One of Michael's, it's on the rack over there. Help yourself." There was a stark silence, but it only dawned on her when she was behind her desk looking for her watch. She'd left it on her desk by mistake this morning. He cleared his throat, grabbing her undivided attention. "What, you want me to leave?" She scoffed with a slight laugh. "You do recall I've seen more than just your chest before?"

"Fine." He deadened his face, irked by her stubbornness as he reached for the shirt. "Just keep your eyes to yourself, Mrs Beauchamp." His small joke lightened the mood a little, even causing her to allow a tiny smirk to grace her face.

"I'll try my hardest to refrain, don't worry." She held her hands up in surrender after fastening her watch, slightly taken aback by his sudden bashfulness. He kept his back to her anyway but was stood right in front of her mirror, giving her a good view of his front as he shimmied out of his spoiled shirt. Her brain was telling her not to look but for whatever godforsaken reason she could _not_ keep her eyes on the paperwork she was trying to scan through. Glancing up momentarily, her brow twitched with concern.

"Too hard not to look, is it?" He smiled at her in the mirror, but it faded quickly when her expression didn't alleviate in it's seriousness. "What?"

"Your chest, how long has it looked like that?" Her delicate whisper was annoyingly kind and heartfelt. She'd started making her way over to him as he swiftly turned around to be face to face with her.

"It's nothing." He jumped into defence mode, feeling her eyes burrowing into him. Her face had softened considerably, a sympathetic glint in her eyes to match her caring words.

"Sam, this looks infected." She went to touch the oozing bandage but he buttoned the shirt up over it, preventing her from doing so. Her eyes darting up to meet his. Suddenly, some of his evident hangover symptoms could quite possibly be sign of infection.

"It's fine, it's just still in the healing process, that's all-"

"Let me have a look at at."

"Honestly, it's fine-"

"Sam." She warned sternly and successfully this time as his hands gave up with the buttons and dropped down by his sides. He let her do the buttons back down since she was already doing so anyway. He watched her closely as she studied his burning skin surrounding the white fabric. He'd be lying through his teeth if he said it hadn't been causing him grief. He was in agony. "This is a mess, why didn't you say something sooner?" Peeling back the bandage as carefully as she could she felt slightly apologetic when he winced. "Sorry." Her eyes flickered up to meet his briefly before she'd finished removing the bandage, it was as if she was holding her breath until it was all the way off. "Okay, sit down. It needs cleaning and redressing, _properly._ " He couldn't be bothered to argue anymore and he felt bad enough as it was with this hangover. Obeying her commands, he took a seat on the edge of Elliot's desk and allowed her to do what she needed to do. Of course, she had a medical kit in her office and pulled it out with a purpose, knowing each compartment like the back of her hand she got everything she required to patch him up more satisfactorily. He remained silent as she worked, just watching her with intrigue. His legs were parted as she stood between them to get closer to his chest.

"Ah!" He hissed through his teeth quietly, making her jump as he tightened one hand on the edge of the desk and the other one moved to her hip out of instinct to get away from whatever was causing him pain. He quickly returned it to the edge of the desk by his side awkwardly. "Sorry."

"It's fine, sorry it's a little tender. You'll need some antibiotics for this, it's not worth risking it getting worse. Especially this close to your heart." She cleared her throat uncomfortably and finished up cleaning it. Finding a larger bandage, she peeled the plastic from it and proceeded to flatten it over this reddened wound. "There, that's a bit better. Make sure you get it redressed in a day or two." She stepped back, removing her latex gloves. He remained quiet for a moment, slowly starting to re-do the buttons on his borrowed shirt as she packed up her emergency medical box, which was really just a sort of pimped out First Aid Kit.

"When are you going to tell me?" He spoke lowly, a subdued tone clear in his voice.

"Tell you what? That as a heart surgeon you were foolish to have ignored the first signs of wound infection?" She spoke with her back to him, only turning to face him when she didn't hear any kind of reaction.

"No, that you're pregnant."


	11. Chapter 11

_"Ah!" He hissed through his teeth quietly, making her jump as he tightened one hand on the edge of the desk and the other one moved to her hip out of instinct to get away from whatever was causing him pain. He quickly returned it to the edge of the desk by his side awkwardly. "Sorry."_

 _"It's fine, sorry it's a little tender. You'll need some antibiotics for this, it's not worth risking it getting worse. Especially this close to your heart." She cleared her throat uncomfortably and finished up cleaning it. Finding a larger bandage, she peeled the plastic from it and proceeded to flatten it over this reddened wound. "There, that's a bit better. Make sure you get it redressed in a day or two." She stepped back, removing her latex gloves. He remained quiet for a moment, slowly starting to re-do the buttons on his borrowed shirt as she packed up her emergency medical box, which was really just a sort of pimped out First Aid Kit._

 _"When are you going to tell me?" He spoke lowly, a subdued tone clear in his voice._

 _"Tell you what? That as a heart surgeon you were foolish to have ignored the first signs of wound infection?" She spoke with her back to him, only turning to face him when she didn't hear any kind of reaction._

 _"No, that you're pregnant."_

"Who told you?" She finally breathed, avoiding his questioning gaze.

"Does it matter how I found out? The only thing that matters is that I _know."_ He blinked, the silence cascading over them like a soundless waterfall. Unheard, but definitely felt. "Look, I know we should have used protection and it was a mistake but I need you to tell me." He paused, watching her troubled face avoid his eyes. "Are you pregnant, with my child?" His brow twitched with confusion at the reaction he received, it was not at all what he imagined her response would be. She let out a small humour-lacking laugh, shaking her head before speaking glumly as the smile faded from her face almost as quickly as it had appeared.

"Don't worry." Speaking tearfully, her eyes finally locking with his as she blinked. "It was someone else's mistake." She whispered the latter of her sentence, before rolling her lips together, an obvious move to try and stop any tears from escaping down her cheeks. She was succeeding so far. She'd be lying painfully if she said the relieved look on his face didn't hurt her. It was like a knife-wound right to the heart, a feeling he was literally quite familiar with. "So, uh, don't forget to get that re-dressed." she sniffed, referring to his chest bandages trying desperately to change the subject and drop this topic completely, looking away as she choked on her emotions.

"You're positive it's not mine?"

"Well, I've just said so, haven't I?" Becoming irked at his persistent nature, she quickly stood up, one hand on her scrub covered hip and the other one running through her short hair tiredly. "I'm thirteen weeks gone. You're a smart man, so why don't you do the math?" She asked rhetorically, only half lying, the larger of the two babies was indeed measuring at thirteen weeks. The smaller one however, had a gestational age that would make Sam the father. Judging by the pure relief on his face and in his long reposed exhale, he was happy with the answer she'd given him. She was a proud woman, despite needing and wanting help she wasn't about to make herself look weak and vulnerable in asking for anything from him.

"It's Will's, isn't it?" He asked after a long and prickly soundlessness.

"Now, that really is none of your business, Mr Strachan." Finally being tipped over the edge, she moved to the door tearfully and opened it for him. A clear indication that she wasn't asking but rather telling him to leave. Each and every time Sam mentioned him or asked _any_ kind of question about this unknown man, he was met with anger, silence or angry silence. Her complete lack of answer was actually more enlightening than any verbal answer. She'd never actually said there was something between them, but her expression and body language would always give him the answer. This instance was no different to any other time, clearly telling him all he needed to know. He looked down, slightly regretfully before standing to leave. He was a sensitive soul and seeing her upset wasn't sitting well with him but he didn't know how to handle her, she wasn't like anyone else he'd ever met before. He halted in the doorway, looking down at her vanquished posture and expression.

"Listen, if there's anything I can do-"

"I don't expect anything from you." She spoke coolly, breaking the connection between their eyes. "Thank you, but I'll deal with this like I deal with everything else in my life." Briefly glancing back up at him she completed her dry sentence. "On my own." She found that inner strength again, talking icily and relaxing her face to match her words and tone of voice. He could do nothing but blink sadly before leaving. As soon as she closed the door behind him, that invisible and unheard waterfall came crashing down over her like a wave of sorrow.

* * *

"Connie, I can honestly say I don't know what you're talking about!" Elliot pleaded with the furious consultant. It was the end of the day, darkness had descended upon them once more and yet again they were in a similar situation as the previous evening. She was angry but above all, upset. He was completely baffled, assuming the worst had happened with her conversation she'd had with Sam. Somehow he'd already known about her pregnancy details, but it certainly wasn't down to him as she was currently accusing.

"Oh, come off it, Elliot! How else could he have known?" She squinted, breathing heavily between her sentences. Accosting him as soon as he'd re-entered their office, his potential betrayal had left her feeling even more alone.

"I would _never_ do that to you, to _anyone."_ He gushed, quite hurt that she'd inculpate him of such a thing.

"Men." She spat with a scoff. "You're all the same, none of you can be trusted."

"Connie-"

"Please, Elliot. Just, leave me alone." Her words quickly dissipated from loud yells to exhausted whispers. She was _so, so_ tired of arguing with _everyone_ about her own private situations. She felt like a fool to have even confided in him in the first place, she was damaged as it was in terms of trusting men but this went above and beyond any other kind of betrayal she'd experienced within the male species. Will was the only exception, however, as of late she found herself wondering if he too would have broken her heart in the end? It was a thought not worth thinking about but given her many run-ins with men over the years, she couldn't help but think about it. She'd never find out, perhaps the _only_ silver-lining to his death. He could never disappoint her.

"You're angry and upset, I can see that." He breathed worriedly, alarmed at her rapid, chesty breathing. "I don't want you getting distressed, for your own sake." He continued to speak gently, his hands raised in surrender. "I'll go, alright? I'll let you cool down for a while, but I swear to you on _Gina's_ _grave,_ I would never betray your trust. You _know_ that." He clenched his jaw sadly, his chubby arms now hanging down by his sides defeatedly as he watched her struggling. She really was pushing everyone away and it broke his heart to see her doing so. Truth be told she knew Elliot wouldn't do that but she was so lost in a million other various emotions, she didn't know what to think or feel anymore.

He did as he'd promised, leaving her to cool down on her own as he tried to digest exactly what had just happened. The sensible part of him was telling him to go home, have an early night but the part of him that just couldn't stop from wanting to try and help was urging him to go and find Sam.

Never one to listen to his head, he followed his heart. An educated guess told him to head to the hospital bar after work and that's where he'd find the Lothario that was Mr Strachan.

* * *

Elliot's guess was a good one. He'd seen Connie leave for the evening about an hour ago and made his move, like a thief in the night after finishing up his work. The troubled registrar sat alone at the bar, swirling his half empty glass on the coaster as his elbows rested lazily on the surface. All these weeks he'd spent worrying that he'd got his boss knocked up had been playing on his mind night and day. But it was _more_ than that, he really did feel some type of way towards her but she was so closed off, so private. He couldn't get through to her and the harder he pushed, the farther away she seemed to get. He felt incredibly conflicted and confused, his interest in any other woman completely diminished and he was only just starting to realise _why_.

"I hope you're going easy on the booze tonight?" Elliot spoke over his shoulder, jolting him from his thoughts. "I heard about your chest wound, antibiotics and alcohol don't mix well. You know this better than most people." He took a seat next to him, being a hospital bar it usually wound down quickly and thus was calm and quiet at this very moment in time.

"So she told you then." He brought the glass to his lips, taking a mouthful before setting it down again. The drink was taking the edge of but he was by no means drunk or tipsy. Just at ease.

"If you mean Connie then no, she didn't. Technically speaking, we're not on good terms this evening."

"Uh-oh, you're in the bad books too?" He let a small laugh out, Elliot's face remained stoic since there really was nothing to be laughing about. "What've you done to land yourself in the shit then, hm?"

"Well, that's actually why I'm here." He stared at him over his glasses, wishing the younger male would actually take this seriously. "I know you're aware of her pregnancy-"

"Oh, yes." He nodded after taking another swig of his drink, setting it down loudly and waving at the bartender for another. "I am well aware of that fact." He frowned quizzically before once again spinning a joke on the matter at hand. "Hold on, you're not about to tell me it's your baby are you? Because that's a piece of information I could really do without, if I'm being brutally honest."

"And if _I'm_ being brutally honest, I think you know full-well the smaller foetus is yours and the larger one is _Will's._ Not _mine_ , Mr Strachan." His deadpan face showed no sign of hilarity at the smart-mouthed comment he'd just made. But a deathly silence dropped over them drastically, throwing Elliot into a terrifying tailspin.

"I'm sorry, what?" The jokes and humour he was previously dishing out, flew straight of the window. His brow pulling down hard as he stared at Elliot expectantly, swivelling in his seat to stare at him. There was a brief yet angst-filled silence between them, Elliot's skin crawled with goosebumps. Plain and utter regret coursing through him like poison to the heart. He had _really_ fucked up now. "You're telling me it's twins? And that one could be mine?!"

"Now, wait just a minute-"

"Elliot, please, _don't_ screw me around." His voice had found an angry and firm sternness, his jawline tensed as he scowled out his words.

"Look, I came here to sort out a mess not create another one." He talked quickly, attempting to get ahold of the situation again. "She thinks that _I_ told you about her pregnancy, she said you already knew about it?" His face wrinkled with confusion, not understanding where he'd gone wrong. His head was spinning dangerously fast.

"Yes, I knew because I saw the blood results on her desk!" He snarled. "But I didn't know that she was carrying _twins_ with the possibility that one was _mine."_ Growling emotionally, his eyes were wide with shock and anger as Elliot's whole body drooped. She'd bottled it and not told him the sensitive registrar the entirety of the story, spinning him a lie to keep him away and here Elliot had just waltzed in and made a giant mess of it all. Sam's voice pulled him back to the moment. "She told me it was somebody else's mistake, that it wasn't my baby!" Despite his growing anger, he kept his shouting to a hushed whisper, not wanting people surrounding them to hear any sordid gossip. "I mean, I've heard of this happening but-"

"It's extremely rare. Two separate pregnancies occurring at the same time, more commonly referred to as superfetation." Elliot murmured lowly, his mood deflated so much that he honestly felt like weeping himself. After losing Gina, his kids had gone their own ways and left for University, leaving him alone and very much a lonely widower. Connie was always his focus after that, keeping an eye on her and such. But he'd just blown that all to smithereens it would appear. "But not unheard of, like you said." He continued, his voice flat and coated with sadness.

"She lied to my face-"

"She's scared, Sam." He butted in, cooing sadly, preventing him from ranting on angrily. "Despite what her actions and words tell us, deep down she's scared and alone. All we can do is try to be there for her."

"She's already made it quite clear she doesn't want me involved-"

"Oh boo-hoo, poor Sam Strachan. He slept with his boss and got her pregnant." He interjected, mocking him angrily, this lack of compassion Sam was displaying was distasteful to Elliot. "How did you react when she told you then? Hm? Because I bet you _any_ money you weren't pleased, were you?" He raised his brow, and tilted his chin down, awaiting a damn good answer but the look on Sam's face softened as he recalled how the conversation had gone. The older consultant could almost see it register in his expression. "If you gave her any reason to believe you were disappointed about the prospect of accidentally fathering her a child, she'll have shut you out. Just like that." His eyes widened whilst talking seriously. "Now, if that _is_ your child, don't you think that's worth fighting for?" He planted the notion in his head expertly, he needed another outside force pushing against the walls surrounding her. She needed to see that she wasn't as alone as she felt.

* * *

 _"Why is that?" He glanced at her in the dark, the moonlight shining through her window painting glimmers of white across her green eyes He was referring to her status as a loner at Holby, rarely attending nights at the bar or the pub with other staff and just being quite closed off from everyone in general. "I never see you with any 'friends' and I don't think I've ever heard you talk about family before." He was on one of his late night questioning sprees, normally this would flatter any woman, a man showing some deeper interest in their lives and not just trying to get beneath their clothes. But not Connie, she'd rather be stripped of her clothes than her metaphorical armour. She never delved into her past and for very, very good reason._

 _"I'm a lone wolf, always have been." She whispered, a small smile creeping across her face as she smoothed herself over the cool, crisp sheets to get closer to him. They were laying on their sides, facing one another. That is until she moved herself over him, forcing him onto his back as she straddled him seductively._

 _"You got the wolf part right." He smiled too as she planted her palms either side of his head on the pillow, leaning down into him with a passionate yet brief kiss. His hands planted themselves on her hips before smoothing up her sides, moving them up and down in this same rhythm as she pulled back a touch to look into his eyes. "You don't have any sisters? Brothers?" He pressed on with a small laugh at her eye-roll. He was relentless._

 _"No, Mr Curtis." She answered abruptly, clearly not having it. "Do you? If so, I might have to trade you in for your brother."_

 _"Over my dead body." He whispered sensually, sitting up quickly and flipping them over, completely reversing their positions as he now lay over her, resting himself between her parted legs. The sheets still covering their lower halves despite his sudden movements. "I don't share." He kissed her again, short and passionate the same as before._

 _"Nor do I." Her voice was low and her eyes flickered over his, the mood turning icy as they stared at one another for a fleeting few seconds. He exhaled slowly, getting off of her tenderly._

 _"I can't do this right now, Connie." He sighed, already knowing where this was headed. "Not with Christmas coming up, it'd destroy the kids-"_

 _"I know, I know." She cut in, regretting her choice of words instantly. She knew full-well that guilting him about his marriage was a low-blow, that he was trying to time the break-up right so as to cause less pain for his young family, if there was even such a thing. Adultery was adultery, no matter how it was dressed or how the news was broken to the spouse. It'd still hurt. "I just, I'm not sure how much longer I can go on doing this. You know, after Michael's philandering ways, I promised myself I'd never be the 'other woman' again." Although he really didn't know, as she'd just insinuated. She would never talk about it._

 _"It will happen." He reassured firmly, turning to face her again as he sat on the edge of the bed, the bright moon highlighting one side of his face beautifully. She lay her hand on his upper thigh, stroking at it lovingly. His own hand moved to cup one side of her face before speaking what sounded like a vow. "On **my life** , I promise you it will happen."_

If she could go back in time and take all of that back, she would. A thousand times over. But she couldn't. And those words he spoke would haunt her forever.

She was laying in the _exact_ same spot right now. Wrapped in his fleece, trying to intoxicate her senses with him. His physical presence was gone but she still stretched her arm out to where he would have lay. She felt no warmth though, just cold, empty nothingness.

Alone.


	12. Chapter 12

Understandably, tensions were high between Sam and Connie in the two weeks following. Elliot had completely overstepped the mark and caused far more stress and upset for his dear friend than he would even care to admit. She was a closed book as it was but now even more so than ever. There was no warmth in her words towards him anymore, there was little to begin with since it wasn't particularly in her nature but she was cool and reserved in his presence now. Sam had somehow, miraculously, managed to contain his anger. Reassuring himself with the fact that Connie was obviously going through some awful things right now and this whole situation has probably come as a huge shock to her. He had confronted her the very next day, ultimately landing Elliot in the shit but right now he couldn't care less.

People were beginning to notice her bump now, it was fairly obvious regardless of how hard she tried to conceal it. The usual, petty hospital gossip never bothered her but now she felt everyone's eyes on her as she walked through the corridors of Darwin ward. There was a charity function on this evening and she'd been planning on avoiding it for the obvious reason of hiding a pregnancy but since everyone seemed to know now, judging by the following eyes and low whispers, she decided to attend. She wasn't one to hide away and allow small things to get her down, so what better way to silence the gossip and retake the reins on the situation.

"Oh, you're attending tonight?" Elliot asked, nervously but sweetly as he watched her hang a long black dress up in their office. It was a satin or silk-like material, lengthy and elegant in nature.

"Why? Should I be at home, hibernating from the hospital gossip that's circulating?" Her words were like tiny daggers, hitting him in the chest in quick succession. It was an obvious snipe at him and his big mouth. He blinked slowly with an audible sigh, causing her to look at him. It was an icy and uncomfortable visual exchange. "Walking from theatre to here not two minutes ago I heard two interesting possibilities about who the father could be, so far in hospital news I could be carrying Dr Rose's child or my ex-husband's."

"Connie-"

"I'm surprised you haven't had it printed on flyers and been handing them out at the entrance." Spitting angrily she moved to her desk swiftly and sat down.

"That is _not_ fair, Connie." His words were slightly growled, angry at how hostile she was being. "How long are you going to keep this up? You know me, you know I would never purposely hurt you! I genuinely thought Mr Strachan was aware, I thought you were going to tell him." The prickliness in his voice had dissipated considerably, he just wanted this to all wash away and be gone. "I'm too tired to argue with you anymore, I don't know how else to tell you that I'm sorry." He stood slowly, placing a small envelope on her desk as he made his way around to the door.

"What's this?" She asked dryly, awaiting an answer before she even thought about reaching for the small letter.

"I don't know, it had been placed on my desk this morning. It's for you." He bowed his head sadly when she offered him no response, not even an acknowledgement that she'd heard him, she simply continued typing emotionlessly.

Until he left.

That's when she stopped what she was doing immediately, reaching for the envelope as soon as Elliot had closed the door behind himself. Turning it over in her hands, she studied the front of the letter diligently, the hand-writing in particular. Her stomach turned.

* * *

"She probably has no idea herself, let's be honest."

"Who has no idea?" Sam questioned inquisitively as he slid up to Chrissie and Mark, they were deep in conversation at the nurses station.

"Connie." She smirked. "I mean, she's bedded that many men, the father could be any male Doctor or surgeon in the hospital."

"Chrissie." Mark warned disappointedly, his brow furrowing a little with annoyance. Admittedly, Connie _was_ difficult at the best of times but he admired her devotion and utter professionalism she showed at all times. She was an extremely intelligent, talented surgeon and he respected that.

"What? I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking."

"I think you're the only one thinking that." Sam managed to speak finally, his teeth still quite obviously clenched together with frustration. Yes, he was at odds with Connie but he still felt a rise within whenever he heard anyone bad-mouthing her. "Perhaps you should just get on with your job." Speaking lowly, he avoided both of their questioning eyes before grabbing his patient files and brushing between them both.

"He's a bit touchy this morning." Mark spoke, a slight smile on his face as he witnessed Sam disappear around the corner.

"Yeah, he's been acting weird for a couple of weeks now, I'm getting a bit sick of it to be honest." Her brow twitched and her nostrils flared momentarily as she exhaled. "Anyway, enough of him, you're still going tonight aren't you?"

"Oh God." He winced. "I was hoping you'd forgotten about this bloody charity thing."

"Come on, Dad." She huffed. "Don't be so miserable! Mum's been looking forward to it for ages."

"I know she has." His face softened, thinking about his dear wife. "I take it you're going with him then?" He motioned his head in the direction Sam had disappeared in.

"Providing his mood has improved, yes. If not, he can get stuffed." She smiled sweetly. "He's right though, I better get on with it." Glancing at her watch quickly she kissed her Dad on the cheek before setting out on to the ward. "And don't be late!"

Around the corner, Sam had taken a minute to gather himself. He'd been getting nowhere with Connie, in fact he'd probably made her become more distant if that was even possible. He was due in theatre with her in ten minutes and he was slightly dreading it.

* * *

As it would transpire, he had good reason for dreading it. The whole operating theatre was frosty and uncomfortable as they worked in cold silence. He'd only just been relieved of his light duties, the infection fully dealt with and his body more or less back to full strength. This also meant spending more time with Connie as he resumed his previous role of assisting her in theatre. She was avoiding his eyes at all cost throughout the procedure, managing not to glimpse his way even just the once. He'd spent the majority of that time trying to encourage eye contact but she was refusing flat out. He couldn't even get her to look at him, never mind speak to him. Saving his words up until the procedure was complete, he was able to catch her in the deserted corridor outside.

"Look, I know you won't speak to me but I just want to say that I'm going to be there for my child-" His sentence was sliced short as she turned quickly to face him.

"How many times do I have to repeat this to you?" She asked in a hushed manner, her words hissed viciously. "It is _not_ your baby."

"One of them is." Their eyes remained locked, his held a glint of emotion whilst hers seemed tired and empty. "I want a DNA test doing, on both of them." His serious request was mocked immediately as she let out a dry laugh, when really she wanted to do nothing but weep.

"Demand all you want, Mr Strachan. No DNA test will be done by me willingly, not now and not when they're born." Her face softened slightly upon noting the look of pure hurt on his face, not to mention a mixture of shock. Realistically speaking, this was the first time she'd actually verbally admitted she was indeed carrying twins and it took him completely by surprise.

"Why are you doing this?" He whispered the words, each one laced with hurt. "What's so bad about me wanting to be a part of my child's life?"

"I'm not discussing this with you any further." She shook her head emotionally. "This is _not_ your problem, you're in the clear so _please_ will you just leave me alone." She turned on the spot, walking away from him after saying her piece but he wasn't letting her have the last word this time. He wanted the truth. Walking quickly to catch up with her, he manoeuvred around her and blocked her path. This evidently caused her some amount of frustration.

"I'm not going to stop, you know? Every day, I'll be here, asking you."

"Well then, if that's the case I'll have you transferred before you can even say Cardiothoracic Consultant, let alone become one." Her threat was definitely not an empty one, this he could tell by the deathly look on her face. In all honesty, it send a shiver down his spine. But he couldn't help himself.

"I'm not just going to let you do this, if that is my child, I will be part of his or her life."

"The audible sigh of relief you breathed when you _actually_ believed this baby wasn't yours told me all I needed to know." Her face softened as she witnessed his expression change quickly.

"So it is mine?" He spoke softly, almost as if he was scared of spooking her with any loud noise. "You are carrying my baby?" He held his breath, his eyes flickering over her conflicted face. She couldn't answer him, she just gave him a sad sort of look that immediately answered his lingering questions before she turned and walked away. He was left alone in the corridor, his brain trying to process the news. _Thinking_ this scenario and actually _living_ it were two completely different things. And this was all very real now.

Having left him stood in shock, she entered her office numbly. The silence of her work space engulfing her completely as soon as the door clicked shut, her breathing was faster than normal, her chest rising and falling as her heart thumped in her ears. She hoped to God she'd just suddenly wake up and the last few months had all been some sort of surreal and terrifying nightmare but sadly this was not the case. It was all painfully real, including the latest upset to enter her life.

The white envelope.

Fixing her eyes on it in a dazed manner, she soon became aware that her body had relaxed. Perhaps with shock? Or being overwhelmed? Who could say. She moved over to the opened piece of stationary, angrily tearing it up and throwing it's tattered and torn remains into the bin beside her. Steadying herself on her desk, she inhaled deeply in an attempt to collect herself. This was a ghost from her past she could really do without right now, especially on top of everything else she was dealing with. She couldn't shake the scratchily written words from her head. Blinking hard, she rubbed the back of her neck soothingly whilst her other hand smoothed over her bump. The baggy scrubs she was dressed in becoming wrinkled beneath her touch. She felt like she'd been swimming against the tide for months, and as each day painfully passed by, another weight was added to the shackles pulling her down.

* * *

But as always, a master at disguising her pain and anguish, she put on a brave face and a confident front as she attended the charity function alone. Her palms were sweating and her mouth was as dry as a bone. But to the naked eye, she looked flawless and radiant as she sauntered over to her seat. The formality of work was gone, as were the inquisitive stares and gossip fuelled whispers. For now. The building it was being held in was nothing short of spectacular. It was huge in height, the ceilings far taller than any she'd ever seen before and it held a slightly dated feel. Each room was decorated like an art museum, odd paintings and unique sculptures scattered about and adding a regal feel to the place. With valet parking, she'd left her car in the hands of staff to be parked. Not everyone was here yet, judging by the empty chairs and tables about the large room. Up the front there was a stage set up along with a projector screen and a small podium. She could only thank the heavens above she wasn't speaking tonight, just attending. There was no sign of Elliot so far, nor Sam thank goodness. His incessant questioning was becoming a pain in her side. As for her attire, she'd selected a most appropriate dress. It wasn't super figure-hugging and nor did it emphasise her bump at all, it simply hung on her beautifully.

"Glad you could join us, Connie." Ric smiled, holding his glass up to greet her as she sat down. He was joined by Abra, Mark and Jac in welcoming her. She was greatly relieved she wasn't seated with either Elliot or Sam this evening but that didn't mean she was in for an easy evening. As time would soon tell in the next minute or so.

"Yes, very glad indeed." Jac added all too quickly. "Please, somebody grab Connie a glass - Oh, wait." She halted her false words, everyone's eye's on her with slight disdain upon knowing exactly what she was doing. "You shouldn't really be drinking in your condition, silly me." She glanced up at the stone-faced consultant. "I believe congratulations are in order?" She smiled smugly as she spoke, always one to make a situation awkward for her own entertainment. Her comment was followed by a series of some genuine and some fake surprised faces as they all uttered their well wishes. But it was Ric who clocked the discomfort in Connie's facial expression and body language, ultimately coming to her rescue once again.

"Indeed, congratulations and apologies for diverting the subject so swiftly but as I was just discussing, somebody else will have to present my speech at the podium tonight." Connie gave him a small yet grateful smile from her seat next to Jac, he dipped his head in recognition whilst continuing to speak. "I have some unexpected yet urgent business to attend to, I'll be leaving early."

"Lord Byrne is seated up the front, isn't he?" Jac questioned quickly, her attention grabbed in an instant. "I'll do it."

"Of course you will." Connie said sweetly but every single person on the table caught the threatening undertone in her voice. Ric couldn't help but smile to himself, his registrar could do with being knocked down a peg or two and who better to do it than _the_ Connie Beauchamp. The two women locked eyes as they remained seated next to one another. "Because let's face it." She whispered lowly now, keeping the exchange hushed and private as the others began to talk amongst themselves. "You're going to need all the brownie points you can get your conniving little hands on."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." The younger female swallowed hard, attempting to conceal the obvious fear she was feeling.

"Oh, I think you do." She smiled, resting her elbows gently on the table as she breathed the words coolly. "A little birdie told me you're after the newly vacant registrar position on Darwin, but let me tell you now, do _not_ make an enemy of me, Ms Naylor. Because I can assure you, it may just be the last thing you do in this hospital. My opinion holds _a lot_ of weight, and let's just say you're already off to a bad start. Cross me again and you can kiss your career goodbye now before it's even started. And for the record, it's _Mrs Beauchamp_ to you." Watching from across the table, Ric was still amused at the way she put Jac back in her box despite him not being able to hear a word of the whispered exchange. Noting how Connie's face didn't falter once from a dangerous smile, whilst Jac's pumped up bravado seemed to disappear before his very eyes. The pair finished their close knit conversation, which was mostly one-sided before Connie turned to give Ric a smile.

"Right, well that's settled then. Jac, you'll present the speech." He slid the notes over to her before grabbing his glass. "Thank you for offering, there's a fair few cue cards there, you might want to go somewhere quiet and give them a quick read through." Everyone's eyes fell upon her, waiting for her to collect them and leave.

"Good luck, Ms Naylor, I'll look forward to hearing it." She gave her one last cold smile just for good measure. That felt good, she couldn't lie. But almost as soon as the smile appeared on her face, it slowly disappeared again. Across the room just seating herself down at a table was Susan, she could only imagine she'd been invited to speak about something to do with Will. Her stomach suddenly felt like it was doing somersaults. Out of her line of sight, Sam was just arriving also, with Chrissie attached to his arm and looking as dolled up as ever. Her gleeful expression was a far sight different to Sam's, who just happened to look as gloomy as he felt.

"Oh god." Chrissie whispered. "I hope we're not sat at a table full of weirdos." He remained silent, ignoring her meaningless chatter, scanning the room for Connie whilst a waiter checked the list for their names before guiding them to their seats. They were two tables away from her, but he had a clear sight. She looked quite remarkable. Stunning really. "Sam?" Repeating his name again, Chrissie raised her brows waiting for any form of answer. "I've been talking to you for about two minutes now, have you not listened to a word I've said?"

"Hm? Sorry, sorry I'm just exhausted that's all." His well rehearsed apology wasn't cutting it with her anymore since it seemed to be exactly the same each and every time.

"You didn't have to come, you know? Especially if you're going to be like this all night." She leant back in her chair angrily before muttering under breath, making sure it was still loud enough for him to hear. "Would've preferred if you hadn't come to be honest." He felt his eyes roll back in his head involuntarily at her catty remarks, he was growing _very_ tired of her needy nature and _very_ quickly. But as of late he couldn't help but wonder if it was more than just that. He found himself thinking about Connie daily and not just during working hours, his mind and heart were completely conflicted and confused. Before he could spit out a quick comeback, Mark and Tricia appeared and took their seats at the table.

"I don't know how I managed it but I got him here with only a few complaints." Tricia laughed, setting her purse down on the table as they got settled.

"I'm a man of my word, I said I'd take you and here we are my love." He gave her a wink before the pair both turned their attention back to a vacant looking Sam and their less than impressed daughter.

"Well I'm more than relieved to see we're sat with you, any idea who's taking the last seat?" Tricia asked cautiously, sensing their was some underlying tension between the young couple.

"I think it's Elliot." Mark replied after taking a swig of his freshly poured wine. "We've got a good table here, some don't look as lucky." Glancing around the room he was referring to the table opposite them, occupied by Keith Greene and some other dull beings. "I imagine that table'll be a hoot later." He winced with a laugh when Tricia slapped his hand in jest and jokingly reprimanded him.

"You're awful."

A few tables away, Connie was still unaware of Sam's watching eyes as she herself was busy watching Susan. She looked about ready to give birth any day now and seemed to be shuffling papers of some sort, a speech perhaps? She guessed she'd soon find out as the evening progressed. Her heart skipped a beat when the widowed woman looked her way, locking eyes with her immediately. There was a long and uncomfortable connection between them, she looked _so_ hateful and _so_ angry. After a solid ten or fifteen seconds she lost her nerve and needed to get out of the situation.

"Excuse me." She jumped into action, pushing her chair back to stand and make a bee-line for the bathroom once she'd excused herself from the table. A part of her just wanted to keep walking, right through the foyer and out to the the car-park. But the fighter within was urging her to stay, pull herself together and stick it out. So that's exactly what she was doing. Following the signage to the toilets, she found herself greeted by a large wall length mirror at the end of the corridor complete with a sort of bench top in front to place personal items to make it possible for people to correct their appearance or attire. Either side of the hallway were the _Mens Toilets_ and the opposite side the _Female Toilets_. And there stood Elliot, making an extremely poor attempt at putting his tie on in the mirror, his shirt tails hanging out and the clothes he'd been wearing today shoved messily into his tattered man satchel. Her heart did kind of ache for him as she slowly came to a stop behind him, their eyes meeting in the mirror.

"You've got it on backwards." She stated abruptly, watching him struggle.

"Ah, yes, Gina would always do this, you see? And Martha was my back-up but she's away." He chuckled lightly, making a complete dogs ear out of it so much so that she couldn't watch it any longer. Moving over to stand in front of him she slipped her black velvet purse under arm.

"Move your hands." As soon as her words were uttered, his hands dropped down by his sides. He was watching her expression, trying to read whether or not this meant they were on speaking terms again but she still looked vexed and her eyes wouldn't meet his.

"I am sorry, you know-"

"I know." She interrupted abrasively, her eyes _finally_ meeting his as she finished looping his tie at the front. She looked softer now, her voice was a little louder than a whisper and full of sincerity. "I know you are." Adjusting his collar to complete his look, she rubbed his upper arm apologetically. "I know you meant well and I just-" She trailed off trying to think of how to word it. "I just sort of exploded a little bit."

"You've got a lot going on, it was only a matter of time." He smiled, his whole body beaming again now that their row was put to bed. Her small smile back seemed like an effort but he was thankful she did it, he hadn't seen her smile in so long. The silence grew louder until he spoke again with a more serious tone. "You weren't going to tell him, were you?" Their eyes danced across one another's for a few seconds before she finally answered.

"He looked a little put out about the possibility of becoming a Father." She folded her lips together sadly. "So I figured I'd save him the hassle and tell him it wasn't his." Her words were whispered now. "Besides, it's probably best for everyone that way."

"I'm not so sure about that." Elliot argued cautiously, the care and concern extremely evident in his soft face. "Most men would have run a mile, but he hasn't has he?" Tilting his head, he watched her thinking.

"Please, Elliot-"

"Alright." He held his hands up quickly. "I'm leaving it, I'm changing the subject." Reassuring her, he proceeded to step back and look her up and down slowly, taking her appearance in. "You look lovely."

"Ah, flattery won't make me forgive you any quicker." She smiled again but it quickly faded at the sight of Sam approaching them, inviting Elliot to mimic her still face before turning to see what exactly had caught her attention. Laying his focus back on her, he gave her arm a loving squeeze as he leant in close to her.

"I'll leave you both to it." His whispered words were only just heard as he quickly scurried away. She attemted to dive into the ladies room but his hand gripped her forearm softly.

"Please, Connie! I just want to talk."

"I've already said all I need to say-"

"Yes, but I haven't!" His words were loud, his stance becoming less friendly and thus inviting her to snatch her arm from his grip. "I can't stop thinking about all of this, my mind is just ticking constantly, I can't get it out of my head."

"Ah, yes, well join the club." Her sarcasm bounced off him as he continued on with his pleas.

"It wasn't a sigh of relief that you heard." He referred back to her earlier comment.

"Please." She scoffed, looking away with a cold and brief smile. "You looked as though you'd just narrowly escaped a death sentence, Sam."

"I _have_ a son." The emotionally raw words blurted loudly out of his mouth with no restraint, even shocking himself as well as Connie. This new information just kind of sat there hanging between them for a few moments before her stark silence encouraged him to continue. "I have a son out there, somewhere." He shrugged sadly whilst talking. "Who I've never met, never seen, I don't even know his name." His brow was wrinkled with emotion, his eyes flickering over hers as her face softened slightly. "I was pushed out and never got chance to be a Father to him. I had no choice and there was _nothing_ I could do to make her change her mind." He sighed shakily between words. "I've known about your pregnancy for weeks now, since the day I was attacked, just waiting for you to tell me but as the weeks went by I started to think you had no intention of ever letting me know. So, my reaction was not one of _relief_ but disappointment. I'd spent all those weeks assuming it was my baby and for you to tell me it was _someone else's mistake_?" He scoffed slightly with a kind of despaired exasperation. "It felt like a punch in the windpipe." His sad brown eyes remained fixed on hers but she was still so cagey and closed off, as he next spoken sentence would indicate clearly.

"So, what? This will be some sort of redemption child for you? You missed out on the first one so perhaps you'll have a better look in with this one?"

"You always find a way to turn things around and into something they're not, don't you?" He laughed with ill humour. "I'm standing here telling you that I _want_ to be in our child's life, I want to be involved, I want to be there for him or her _and_ you but somehow you manage to twist into something negative!"

"But that's just it though, isn't it?!" She raised her voice, her temper flaring. "There's not just _your_ child to think about!" Her words seemed to echo in the long hallway, bouncing off the tiles beneath their feet and the walls surrounding them. "Look, please, I can't do this right now." Pulling all of her protective guards up, she tried to end the conversation promptly. Pressing the palm of her hand on her forehead for a split second, she shook her head and turned to go into the female toilets but to her annoyance he followed, showing no regard for the fact that he was in the women's bathroom facility.

"What are you so afraid of?" He knew he was poking the bear, so to speak, but he was sick of the avoidance. She'd easily keep this up forever but he was growing so tired of it.

"You're just _not_ listening, are you?" Her tired and emotional face stared up at him sadly, he current vulnerability finally cracking through her armoured front. "Alright, you want to be involved, that's great." Stating matter-of-factly she continued upon noticing his deadpan expression. "So what happens on birthdays? or at Christmas? Hm? I'm just supposed to let _your_ child experience the joy of having _two_ parents and extended family whilst Will's is forced to watch on enviously?!" Her voice cracked tearfully, the sorrow and grief flooding out uncontrollably with weeks of internal worries and thoughts she'd been harbouring on her own. "Because I _can't_ do that, I _won't_ do that." She looked down quickly, annoyed at herself for getting upset in front of him. That was something that made her feel so weak and helpless and she hated it. Sam was stunned into silence, she'd unwittingly admitted it was Will's baby in her emotional outburst and his heart honestly felt pain for her. The sudden incoming sound of chattering women threw him into a panic following the moment of low-spirited quietness, coinciding with Connie's fearful look that more or less screamed for him to get out. Unfortunately, his timing was off and whilst darting through the doorway he came face to face with the group of dolled up Nursing staff.

"Sorry, wrong door." He smiled embarrassedly whilst pointing at the door on the opposite side of the corridor, indicating to them that he'd obviously intended to go into the _Mens_. The women just smirked between themselves, leaving him in silence once the door closed slowly in their wake. Needless to say they were slightly shocked to see Connie in there washing her hands. Luckily they weren't acquainted and thus hospital gossip didn't need to be worried about.

Back out in the large seating area, the speech-givers were just getting ready to hit the stage. Needless to say Chrissie looked incredibly irked at Sam's lengthy absence, quickly voicing it as soon as he sat down again.

"Where the hell have you been? You've been gone ages!"

"Sorry, there was a queue."

"For the _Men's_ toilets? Of course there was." She huffed irately, immediately making the whole table feel tense and on edge. Elliot had since joined them having finally sorted his tie out with a helping hand from Connie. He shared a knowing look with Sam, which sadly was _not_ overlooked by Chrissie, who just observed silently. Her suspicious mind only growing more distrustful when she glanced over to Connie's table to see her absent from her seat. Her eyes switched to the side of Sam's head, her mind racing with thoughts. Luckily for an oblivious Sam, the microphone began to squeak as the first person to speak took centre stage. He took a second to look over at Connie but she was still missing from her table, their unfinished conversation was still niggling away at him. He couldn't relax. Taking a deep breath, he readied himself for the immensely boring night ahead of himself.

But no amount of deep breathing could prepare him for what was about to come. It happened within the blink of an eye, the deafening sound of smashing glass and the loud rumbling of quaking movement through the building. It only seemed to grow in volume, now accompanied by screeching tyres as it all happened in a flash. Everybody's panic seemed to kick off all at once as an out of control tanker came ploughing through the foyer, destroying anything and everything it's path. In these few milliseconds Sam was just quick enough to grab Chrissie by the wrist, pulling her out of her seat as the vehicle continued to bulldoze through the building, no longer steering straight as it came careering through the room sideways. The screams and yells seemed to be the loudest in volume, which was both incredible yet terrifying. Upon grabbing Chrissie's arm, he'd pulled her away from the table and instinctively moved in the opposite direction in which the tanker was hurtling. Being humans, everyone seemed to have had the exact same instinct as a stampede of frightened and screaming people were bolting to the other side of the gigantic room. The wreckage had become almighty as the tanker still seemed to be moving towards them, crashing over tables, chairs and people. The sounds would haunt him forever, as it completely took out the foyer and bathroom corridors the ceiling was falling free from it's structure, raining down chunks of concrete, the chandelier lights going out one by one as they too fell from their fittings and joined the chunks of ceiling, falling dust, and bits of shattered furniture covering the floor until it's movements were gradually slowed by the amount of debris beneath it's wheels. The smell was another thing. A strong stench of fuel had immediately entered his nose, accompanied by an intense ringing in his ears as the loudness seemed to fade out. The ringing was quickly replaced by screams, wails and yells. He and Chrissie had only been lightly coated by the ceiling dust and glass from the lights, their dark clothing and his brown locks now an ashy grey. His breathing was loud and hard, quickly looking to Chrissie in the small amount of light they did have.

"You okay?" He more or less let his words out as a breathy whisper, his body in utter shock. Presumably she was the same, here eyes wide and a small knick on her forehead bleeding lightly. She merely nodded in response. Her eyes eventually scanned their surroundings, inviting him to do the same as they got to their feet cautiously. "Elliot." Gasping his name quietly he moved over to the grey-haired consultant, who looked a little stunned but otherwise unhurt.

"Sam, Chrissie." He whispered as the helped him up. "You're both okay? Thank God." He panted, looking around the room at the many, many wounded and deceased. "We should start making our way around, see to those in desperate need." Finally looking back to them, he was relieved to see Mark and Tricia finding their way over to them, treading carefully over the building remains beneath their feet. Mark had a nasty gash on his head but Tricia looked more or less in tact as well. They really had been the lucky table as Mark had implied earlier. Sam's brain quickly flew into overdrive, looking at Elliot with such intense concern that Elliot didn't even need to ask what was wrong.

"Connie." He whispered lightly before speaking again with more volume. "Connie, where's Connie?" His panicked body language sent Elliot into a frenzy too as his gaze moved back to the corridor leading to the toilets.

It was completely destroyed.


	13. Chapter 13

_"You okay?" He more or less let his words out as a breathy whisper, his body in utter shock. Presumably she was the same, here eyes wide and a small knick on her forehead bleeding lightly. She merely nodded in response. Her eyes eventually scanned their surroundings, inviting him to do the same as they got to their feet cautiously. "Elliot." Gasping his name quietly he moved over to the grey-haired consultant, who looked a little stunned but otherwise unhurt._

 _"Sam, Chrissie." He whispered as the helped him up. "You're both okay? Thank God." He panted, looking around the room at the many, many wounded and deceased. "We should start making our way around, see to those in desperate need." Finally looking back to them, he was relieved to see Mark and Tricia finding their way over to them, treading carefully over the building remains beneath their feet. Mark had a nasty gash on his head but Tricia looked more or less in tact as well. They really had been the lucky table as Mark had implied earlier. Sam's brain quickly flew into overdrive, looking at Elliot with such intense concern that Elliot didn't even need to ask what was wrong._

 _"Connie." He whispered lightly before speaking again with more volume. "Connie, where's Connie?" His panicked body language sent Elliot into a frenzy too as his gaze moved back to the corridor leading to the toilets._

 _It was completely destroyed._

* * *

He was tearing through the rubble like a man possessed, he couldn't help it. His heart was beating so incredibly loud and fast, it almost drowned out every other noise around him.

"Mr Strachan!" Elliot's urgent voice behind him was no match for his strong-willed mind, he was going to reach her no matter what. "Sam! Stop!"

"We can't just leave her in there!" He growled, continuing to pull at the mountain of debris before him, even if he just made a small enough gap to crawl through.

"No but we _can_ wait until help arrives, Sam! You don't know what lies beyond this, you could cause further damage!" He was attempting to halt the younger male from rushing in foolishly. But it didn't seem to be having any kind of effect, in fact it was only making him work faster.

"Sam, Elliot's right." Chrissie's voice chimed in now too, only further aggravating him. "You could cause another collapse, we should wait-"

"I am not waiting for the people beyond this wall of rubble to die from any injuries they could've sustained, you're right, for all we know I might makes things worse, but for all else we know they could be seriously hurt."

"You mean, there were more people beyond this hallway?" Elliot blinked worriedly, of course he was gravely concerned for his pregnant friend but also knowing there were more lives at risk he was starting to think maybe Sam was right.

"Yes." Sam swallowed tiredly, his body starting to feel the effects of moving heavy concrete chunks in such a quick fashion. He didn't stop though, he could see a gap forming and this only fuelled on his actions. "Four or five other women. Maybe even more, I don't know."

"But still, you can't just go ahead and bulldoze your way through, Sam." Chrissie glanced up at the ceiling as she spoke, the nerves radiating off her words. "I think we should have some sort of strategy in place and focus on the people out here who need us and th-"

"Alright." He barked, turning around quickly and dropping the debris currently in his hands. His forehead was coated with a mixture of beaded sweat and rubble dust, the large darkened room being illuminated every so often with the flashing of the remaining ceiling lights above them. "Strategy, you want some order? Fine, you and Elliot move to the outer left of the room, Mark and Tricia move the the outer right. You'll work in pairs and move inwards, meeting in the centre of the room, help anyone that needs it urgently." His nostrils flared with impatience, he could already see other wounded Hospital staff attempting to help anyone they could.

"And you?" She blinked tearfully. "I suppose you're still hellbent on trying to be the hero?" She waited until everyone's attention was elsewhere before whispering lowly. "Just what exactly has got you so hung up on her?"

"Hung up?-" He scoffed with disbelief, reining in his flaring temper as he turned to face her. "Chrissie, the building has collapsed! There are people stuck beyond here, possibly injured and maybe even dead, one of them being our work colleague!" He argued back ferociously, not quite believing she was doing this _now_ of all times. "I didn't realise there had to be some hidden agenda in trying to save lives!"

"Chrissie! For God's sake!" Mark was becoming short tempered too now, pulling away from attending to his slightly wounded wife. "Look around you, what do you see? Hm?" He shook his head. "Stop picking arguments and let's get on with it, shall we? There's a time and a place for this and now is definitely _not_ it."

"Call me if you need any help once you reach them, okay?" Elliot rejoined the conversation, speaking calmly and quietly as the other three dissipated from the grouping and followed the instructions just given to them. Chrissie was beyond furious, but her Dad was right. This was not the time or the place.

* * *

Her ears will still ringing with the noise, her chest rising and falling quickly but she couldn't hear her own heavy breaths. Blinking slowly, she took a moment to adjust to everything around her. Glancing down at her own hands she furrowed her brow harshly. Blood. But where from? Her eyes flickered over the parts of her own body she could see, she'd awoken on the floor, surrounded by chaos. Rubble, debris, water fountaining out from the destroyed sinks and the intermittent sparking of electrical cables from the caved in ceiling. Now she found herself stood delicately amongst the destruction, her ears slowly starting to pick up on the noises around her, the main sound being her own distressed breathing along with the gushing of water. Her throat constricted tightly when her eyes landed on what appeared to be an arm. The rest of the body she assumed was buried beneath the wreckage. She staggered back slightly, trying to find something stable to lean on. She couldn't figure out where all this blood had come from and the medical professional part of her brain was urging her to attend to people around her but there was not a single human noise coming from the destroyed room. Just her loud heartbeat and shaky breaths. Her movements stopped suddenly at the muffled sound beyond the room, it was steadily growing closer.

"Sam?" She whispered to herself lightly, her head moving in the direction from which she could hear his faint calls.

On the other side of the sturdy wall, Sam tried to mentally map out where the door frame had been prior to this disaster. In all that had collapsed, this wall remained stood solid, holding it's ground defiantly. He scrambled across the ruins as quickly and as delicately as he could. Weaving in and out of the fallen beams and large slabs of concrete ceiling littering his path, it was nothing short of an obstacle course and a dangerous one at that. His black suit was no longer it's original colour, instead it now sported a dull grey look, amongst a few rips and tears from his crawling around. He was using the torch on his partially busted phone to guide his way.

"Connie?" He yelled out loudly, where once his voice would have echoed elegantly down the lengthy marble floored hallway, it now sounded mute against everything caved in around him. The air was tight, almost claustrophobic in nature. "Connie?" He stilled himself for a moment, hoping to hear something, anything. There was a clenched silence before muffled movement could be heard. He wasted no time in carefully finding his way towards it. "Connie, is that you?" Settling at the dead end he was now faced with, he placed his hand against the cool wall. His knees were aching from crawling through such tight spaces, he was crouched low in order to avoid catching his head on anything. "Connie?!" Feeling his breath quickening in pace, it was soon replaced with a feeling of relief upon hearing her voice more clearly.

"Sam?"

"Yeah, it's me, it's Sam." He breathed loudly, his upper lip coated in sweat. "Are you hurt?" There was silence following his question, urging him to get closer in the direction from which he'd heard her voice. Finally, after scanning the darkened area for what felt like minutes he pinpointed a small gap in the ruins. Moving over to it expeditiously he didn't hesitate in throwing his hand through the gap and reaching around on the other side. "Connie? Over here, can you see my hand?" He held his breath, waiting for an answer when his whole body jerked with fright upon feeling her hand wrap around his. "Oh, God." He whispered on an exhaled breath, his eyes closing momentarily with pure relief. "Are you okay?" He tried to get his face as close to the gap as he could, in hope that he'd be able to see her and know for himself she was alright.

"I think so?" It sounded like she was whispering, her hand still clutching on to his. "There's blood, everywhere." She breathed, glancing around the space she was enclosed in. "But I don't think it's mine?"

"Are you sure? How many people are in there with you?"

"It's dark." She swallowed, trying to focus her eyes in the extremely dim lighting as she looked around at the wreckage. "I can't see anything but from memory there were three, maybe four other women?"

"Okay, listen, Elliot is directing help our way as soon as it arrives but I'm going to try and locate a way in-"

"No." She interrupted quickly. "I'm not sure how stable this is, Sam." Letting go of his hand she wiped the dust from her face and glanced across her surroundings. "I'll check if there are any casualties or fatalities in here until then. I can't see a thing though, do you have torch or a light?"

"Yeah, here." He flung his phone gently through the gap. "But just be ca-"

"Yes, _b_ _e careful_ , I know." She faced the torch behind herself, it was still, quiet and very eery. "It's not like a whole building just collapsed on us or anything, what more could happen?" Speaking to herself she squinted in an attempt to focus her eyes more efficiently in the extremely dusty and destroyed room. She ceased movement when her eyes rolled over a patch of reddened concrete and dust. "Right, I think I can see someone, I'm going to have a look." Making her way over seemed like an easy enough task in her mind but actually getting there was a process in itself. Finally reaching them, she closed her eyes with regret, a long and shaky sigh accompanying her facial expression. "Jesus." Her whisper went unheard by Sam who remained sat at the gap like a loyal puppy.

"Can you see anyone?" He called out through the small hole, there was no dimension and no echo to his question. Just his voice hitting the stale and condensed air. She could actually feel herself becoming slightly breathless in the awful conditions.

"One fatality." She yelled back regretfully before tearing her eyes away from the poor lifeless woman before her. It was that bad, she didn't even need to check for a pulse. She was quite visibly deceased and her life unsalvageable. This act repeated itself another three times, all four women who had been in the same bathroom as her prior to the crash were all dead. And quite catastrophically as well. How she had survived with only minor wounds was a wonder to her. One of the women was less than a metre away from where she'd found herself, suggesting that all the blood she was wearing belonged to this dear woman. She returned steadily to the gap in the ruins where Sam was still sat obediently.

"Elliot shouldn't be too much longer." He reassured through the small space, not being able to visually see and assess her well-being was making him feel on edge and it was the strangest sensation for him. "Look, are you sure you're okay? You're not hurt or injured?"

"No, just few scrapes, I think." The silence didn't fall over them gently, it filled in every moment around them. She passed his torch back through to him and sat herself down. "And you? You're okay?"

"Fine. Just a ruined suit and a crushed phone." Receiving his phone back, his eyes caught on to an area of possible entry as his torch flashed around the room from her hand to his. "Hold on, I think I've just spotted a way in." He scrambled to his hands and knees, ignoring her protests as he made his way to the looser looking pile of rubble. He shoved his phone into his mouth to hold it steady as he began slowly and steadily shifting some of the rock pieces. On the other side, she could hear him moving the chunks of debris, her heart pounding with each sound, she was tensed and preparing for another collapse but her body experienced a wave of relief when she heard his voice closer now and behind her. "Over here." He waved the torch, signalling his whereabouts.

"You could have caused another collapse-"

"But I didn't though, did I?" He grinned mischievously, feeling even more accomplished when she cracked the smallest of smiles. Holding his hand out, he waited for her to make her way over to him as delicately as she could across the caved-in mess. He was already shrugging out of his suit jacket ready to drape around her bare shoulders. Initially she was going to decline the sweet offering but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't shaking like a leaf due to what she could only assume was shock.

"Thanks." She pulled it tight around herself, attempting to keep her body heated and the shock at bay.

"Your head." He sighed. "It's bleeding, did you knock it?" He directed his phone torch above her head, attempting to gain a better look, it was hard to see one another with only this small amount of light they had.

"Hm?" She lifted her fingers to the side of her forehead, knowing exactly where it was as soon as he'd alerted her to the fact that she was cut. "No, I uh, I don't know." Her brows lowered as she studied the blood glistening on her fingertips, not recalling how she'd sustained the the injury. "I must've done it during the collapse."

"Let me have a look at it." She remained still and quiet, protesting wouldn't change anything and so she allowed him to look over it. "You might need a stitch or two." Sitting back, he pulled the torch away in order to cascade more light over her. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"No, I already told you, I'm fine." She paused gravely. "This isn't mine." She referred to the blood covering her right forearm and side of her dress beneath his jacket she was cloaked in, it was stained a deep crimson red.

"No, your elbow, look." He moved his jacket back from her shoulder gently to reveal her almost skinless elbow, she must have landed on it when the building came down. As soon as she saw it, she could feel her skin starting to sting. The adrenaline pumping through her body was masking all of her aches and pains. Sam looked at her arm for a few seconds more, using his torch to really get a good look before gently pulling his jacket back over her. "You've taken a full layer of skin off here." He sighed with a winced expression. "We need to get you looked at properly, do you think you'll be alright getting back through here? Elliot must be held up." In normal circumstances she'd be fighting off his care and concern but until now she was under the impression she was unscathed, which was apparently not the case. Who knows what other injuries her body was dealing with, but she cooperated willingly with him as her mind instantly went to her unborn babies.

Within ten minutes he had guided them safely back out in the main seating area where the disaster only just started to hit Connie. It was like a battlefield before her very eyes, ruin and chaos everywhere she looked. Granted, what she had just experienced was extremely traumatic but there were so many casualties out here that needed their assistance.

"Okay, wait here, I'll get Elliot-"

"No, no we need to start helping anyone we can." She shrugged out of his jacket, the adrenaline still trying to keep her going at one-hundred. "Try the kitchens, they'll probably have first aid kits, knives, alcohol for disinfectant-"

"You need to be checked over-"

"Sam, I'm fine, but the people beneath this debris are _not._ " She spoke authoritatively, she'd began making her way towards a young male panting heavily inviting Sam to follow quickly. "Take off your tie and give it to me, now." Asking urgently, she locked eyes with him as she crouched down delicately by the struggling man. His left leg was pinned beneath a large wedge of concrete, his breathing laboured and erratic. Sam acted immediately, taking it off in one swift movement before handing it to her. "Kitchens, Mr Strachan, come on." Calling out her orders again he decided against defying her, she she was right, a lot of people here were in desperate need of assistance. This didn't take away his concerns though, ultimately harassing her wasn't going to work so he'd enlist Elliot's help on the way to the kitchens.

"A couple of fire extinguishers might not go amiss either." He concluded her item list, smelling the strong stench of fuel and glancing around at the sparking lights.

"That's more like it, Mr Strachan." She flicked him a glance and he swore he could see a slight smile. "Today would be good."

"Right, yes, of course." He jumped back to the moment. "I'll be back in two." Heading in the direction of the kitchens, he left her attending to this unfortunate soul.

"Can you tell me your name?" She breathed softly, trying to fashion a tourniquet out of Sam's tie, pulling it tightly around his thigh just above his knee. He was bleeding profusely and she needed to try and stop it as quickly as she could.

"M-Martin." He stammered through gritted teeth. "Please, my leg-"

"Alright, alright." She soothed. "Martin, you're losing a lot of blood, this will help but I need you to stay as calm as you can, okay? Can you do that for me?" She nodded in unison as soon as he moved his head in agreement. Sam arrived back at her side in less than two minutes, handing her a bottle of alcohol as she balled his suit jacket up in her hand. "I've got this, maybe you should start making your way around too?"

"I'm on it, Elliot is here to give you a hand." He rose to his feet again, moving on straight ahead to the next injured person, making sure to keep stealing a glance in her direction. She continued to work in silence, dousing Sam's jacket in alcohol before holding eye contact with a quivering Martin. He was in shock, understandably.

"Connie, why don't you let me do that? Then I'll check that wound on your head-"

"Mr Strachan already checked it, it's fine and I'm needed here." Elliot and Sam shared eye contact across the wreckage between them whilst she pressed the rolled up jacket onto Martin's bleeding leg. The howl he let out indicated just how much it hurt. "Alright, Martin." She cooed. "I know it's not very comfortable but I need to you to hold this in place for me." She grabbed his hand with her free palm and pushed it onto the clothing item. "That's it, just keep it like that."

"And now what do you suppose we do?" Elliot's voice was calm and quiet, which was oddly refreshing given the circumstances.

"I can't lift that." She nodded her head towards the large concrete slab pinning his leg down. "Do you think you and Mr. Strachan could do it?"

"We can only try." Elliot scuffled cautiously around the the other side of their agonised patient. "Mr Strachan? I need you over here!" He called out loudly.

"I'm a little tied up over here!" Sam's shaky response was almost drowned out by the woman he was helping, she was panicked and in a great deal of agony by the sounds of it.

"Swap with Connie, we need to get this off his leg as soon as we can!"

"Alright, Elliot, I'll leave him with you." Connie exhaled and got up slowly upon seeing Sam starting to move their way. It was almost as if they were playing tag-teams as they brushed past one another. During the passing, his warm hand stopped her gently and wrapped around her forearm.

"It's Susan." His breath was shallow and his eyes sympathetic, there was no words in the English dictionary that he could use to describe the look of pure pain on Connie's face right.

"What?" She whispered, her mouth turning as dry as the Sahara desert.

"Her arm is impaled-" He cut himself off upon hearing Elliot shout again. "She's in labour, can you handle it?" His eyes flickered over her face as she turned to look in Susan's direction. "Connie?" Squeezing her arm softly her forced her to suddenly jump back into her own being.

"Yes, yes of course I can handle it." Her retort wasn't convincing Sam in slightest despite how abrasive it was, but he had to trust her word and assist Elliot before Martin bled out into the debris.

The two surgeons managed to lift the heavy ceiling piece and free his leg, there were multiple compound fractures visible now and they each knew this poor man was in for a lengthy recovery process if they managed to save him. Sam immediately started rinsing the alcohol all over his wounds, causing him to cry out loudly.

"I'm sorry, we just need to make sure your wounds are cleaned, I'm only going to do it one more time, alright?" He did as he said and began rinsing the largest one out once again. A soon as the agonising task of cleansing was done, he fell into a relief-tainted silence.

"Did you manage to look over her properly?" Elliot asked cautiously, referring to Connie of course, as he tried to secure the compound fractures on Martin's legs efficiently.

"No, she wouldn't let me, apart from the cut to her head and the open wound on her elbow I couldn't see any more-"

"But that doesn't discount the possibility of internal injuries, Mr. Strachan." They talked and worked at the same time, making sure they didn't drop the ball for even a second.

"I know." The two shared a worried stare. "She needs to be assessed as soon as we get out of here." Sam spoke fretfully whilst de-lacing one of his shoes, improvising with what he had at hand to secure Elliot's jacket around the heavily wounded leg. He tied it tight, his breathing becoming quick with the buzz of what was going on.

Across the small mound of rubble between them, Connie was doing her absolute upmost to calm Susan. Putting it mildly, she was in an incredible amount of discomfort between her arm being impaled on a large piece of shrapnel and her increasingly hard-hitting contractions.

"I don't-" She stopped for a second, grimacing with the pain. "I don't want you anywhere near me." Gasping loudly following her growled wishes, she locked eyes with Connie but her words were wasted.

"Susan, I know you're not my biggest fan and I don't blame you. Really, I don't but you _need_ to trust me, alright? For your baby's sake." She could feel herself begging with her gaze, her breath bated with anticipation. She felt awful for feeling the way she did but she couldn't stop the wave of relief from crashing over her like a tidal wave when the Fire Crew and Emergency Services arrived at that very moment. They flooded in quickly, dispersing themselves as needed throughout the destroyed building. Sam had instantly headed their way, assisting in prioritising patients, Martin and Susan being at the top of the list.

"This is Susan Curtis." He spoke calmly but quickly as he guided two Paramedics in Connie's direction. She'd done her best to put pressure on the bleed surrounding the impaled shrapnel, tearing the lower half of her own dress off to to aid her in doing so. Despite this, Susan was still struggling through her contractions and was quite understandably distressed. "She's been impaled by a large piece of shrapnel in her upper left arm, and she's roughly around thirty-three weeks pregnant." He paused suddenly upon seeing Connie's despondent expression.

"And you said contractions started before or after the collapse?" The older male paramedic prompted him back to the moment.

"Um, sorry, yes, she seemed to think they began after the accident." He followed them cautiously, noting how quickly this labour seemed to be progressing. Differences aside, Susan was gripping on to Connie's arm for dear life, her forehead coated in a glistening sweat.

"Okay Susan." The female Paramedic calmed. "We're gonna get you out of here as soon as we can, just a few more minutes, alright?" They began attending to her, leaving Sam and Connie to watch on helplessly.

"I've packed the area around the arm as best I could, her contractions are about five or six minutes apart." Connie paused for a moment before locking eyes with the Paramedic. "Things are moving quickly, so we need to get her out of here as soon as possible." The latter of her sentence was spoken low but Susan knew things were bad. Out of view, Sam had approached the male Paramedic discreetly, his brow still beaded with perspiration from exerting himself.

"We have another major casualty over here, I'm not sure how long he's going to hold out for."

"Alright, show me the way." He grabbed his equipment, gaining his colleague's attention first. "You alright here until the Fire Crew can assist?" Her small yet sure nod gave him his cue to follow Sam. Giving him the perfect opportunity.

"Listen, the female surgeon assisting your colleague over there is also about fifteen weeks pregnant with twins. I think she was knocked out, suffered a bang to the head during the collapse. She's jumped straight into helping everyone and hasn't been checked out yet-"

"Understood." He nodded. "I'll get Elise to take a look at her once the Fire Crew move in on Mrs. Curtis."

"Thank you." He gushed, a sigh of relief escaping as they reached Martin. He couldn't wait for all of this to be over.

It ended up happening more quickly than he'd imagined, with the leaking fuel and sparking lights, the Fire Crew were extremely concerned about the possibility of further collapse or even an explosion. They managed to get everyone out in dribs and drabs until the last person was finally evacuated. With the rush of removing everybody, there was no time to check people out on scene anymore. Instead, priority patients were rushed to either St. James' or Holby General. This included Susan and Connie, who was majorly surprised that the labouring woman hadn't rejected her help and hadn't protested her presence in the ambulance. They'd managed to contact a relative and her sister had met her at the hospital entrance, from there Connie was relieved of her duty and she was rushed off to maternity before they could even attempt to look at her arm. She knew Susan wasn't looking good and the prospect of her baby surviving was extremely low.

* * *

"Connie?" Elliot murmured her name for a fourth time, now crouching down in front of her. He and Sam had arrived together in Sam's car, the backed up vehicles on the main road and leading into the hospital car park had them arriving nearly an hour after Connie. She was seated on a chair in the maternity ward corridor. The lights were blinding white in comparison to the dark and dusty conditions they'd just been trapped in for nearly three hours. "Connie, perhaps we should get you looked over?" He blinked, his eyes flickering across her tired and weary face. She was extremely pale, even more so in contrast to the dark and dusty marks all over her from the wreckage of the building. The side of her forehead was now coated in a darker shade of dried blood as opposed to the vivid red colour it was earlier. Her arm still looked incredibly tender though, she appeared to be cradling it slightly beneath the large blue blanket the paramedics had provided her in the back of the ambulance.

"Elliot's right, that arm looks pretty nasty."

"It's my fault." Her expression didn't alter, her gaze fixed ahead and on nothing in particular. She whispered those three words so quietly, Sam wasn't even sure she'd said anything at all.

"It's nobody's fault but the driver's, Connie." Elliot uttered his kind words equally as soft, placing his warm and pudgy hand on her knee whilst he remained crouched before her. "You need to stop doing this to yourself." The exchange between the two felt quite private, forcing Sam to take a step back so as to be out of earshot.

"You don't understand." Her last sentence was barely spoken at all, the words just sort of floated out as she exhaled tiredly. She was too emotionally exhausted to even cry anymore. Life was truly playing hardball with her, just catapulting one trauma after another at her without so much as a break. Elliot was on the verge of speaking again, he had no idea what to say but the swinging doors behind them opened softly. A sorrowful silence rained over the three of them as two nurses wheeled the blanket covered box away. It didn't take a genius to work out beneath the blanket lay the baby nobody could save. Sam's whole body ran cold at the sight, his eyes closing with disappointment.

"You _musn't_ blame yourself for this, you did everything you could." He continued to soothe, a single tear rolled down her left cheek followed shortly after by another down her right. They left clear trails through the dust powdered over her slightly freckled face. Sam could feel his throat aching with that awful feeling one gets whilst trying to bite hold of their sadness. Elliot was an emotional and sensitive gentleman too and this situation was also proving difficult for him. He glanced at her aggressively injured elbow, wondering just how he was going to get it looked at with her in this despondent state. His eyes flickered down to her ruined dress, it had looked so elegant this morning as it hung beautifully in their office and then covered her in an effortless grace this evening. Now it was torn and tattered beyond recognition. His eyes ceased movement, swallowing hard he looked back to her face before turning to Sam quickly.

"Mr. Strachan, get somebody from Obs and Gynae down here, now." He rotated his body a fraction whilst still crouching before her, quietly but urgently ordering his instructions. Sam stepped forward, his jaw becoming slack with the sight before him too as Connie finally seemed present again. She looked down at the ruby red blood running down her leg, her heart racing as her breathing seemed to mimic it's speed.


	14. Chapter 14

_"It's nobody's fault but the driver's, Connie." Elliot uttered his kind words equally as soft, placing his warm and pudgy hand on her knee whilst he remained crouched before her. "You need to stop doing this to yourself." The exchange between the two felt quite private, forcing Sam to take a step back so as to be out of earshot._

 _"You don't understand." Her last sentence was barely spoken at all, the words just sort of floated out as she exhaled tiredly. She was too emotionally exhausted to even cry anymore. Life was truly playing hardball with her, just catapulting one trauma after another at her without so much as a break. Elliot was on the verge of speaking again, he had no idea what to say but the swinging doors behind them opened softly. A sorrowful silence rained over the three of them as two nurses wheeled the blanket covered box away. It didn't take a genius to work out beneath the blanket lay the baby nobody could save. Sam's whole body ran cold at the sight, his eyes closing with disappointment._

 _"You musn't blame yourself for this, you did everything you could." He continued to soothe, a single tear rolled down her left cheek followed shortly after by another down her right. They left clear trails through the dust powdered over her slightly freckled face. Sam could feel his throat aching with that awful feeling one gets whilst trying to bite hold of their sadness. Elliot was an emotional and sensitive gentleman too and this situation was also proving difficult for him. He glanced at her aggressively injured elbow, wondering just how he was going to get it looked at with her in this despondent state. His eyes flickered down to her ruined dress, it had looked so elegant this morning as it hung beautifully in their office and then covered her in an effortless grace this evening. Now it was torn and tattered beyond recognition. His eyes ceased movement, swallowing hard he looked back to her face before turning to Sam quickly._

 _"Mr. Strachan, get somebody from Obs and Gynae down here, now." He rotated his body a fraction whilst still crouching before her, quietly but urgently ordering his instructions. Sam stepped forward, his jaw becoming slack with the sight before him too as Connie finally seemed present again. She looked down at the ruby red blood running down her leg, her heart racing as her breathing seemed to mimic it's speed._

* * *

Sam could both feel and hear his own heart beating in his ears, fast and hard. His breathing seemed to match in heaviness and speed as he walked slightly ahead of them, holding the double doors open. Stood to the right of her, Elliot had his left arm wrapped supportively around her lower back, whilst his right was reached across his large, protruding stomach holding onto her right hand comfortingly. As they passed him slowly, Sam couldn't help but find his eyes focusing on the blood trail behind them, he could feel his body warming with panic.

"Mr Strachan." Elliot huffed, struggling to hold her upright. "The door." He jumped to it without question, opening the next door for them. Up ahead the on-call Obstetrician was walking towards them with a purpose.

"In here, quickly." He wasted no time in barking his orders, all three of them abiding without hesitation. They were ushered smoothly into the private room, Sam couldn't help but feel as though he was out of place, despite being the Father to one of these babies. "Are you in any pain at all, Mrs Beauchamp?" He spoke urgently whilst setting up the scanner. Elliot had managed to get her seated on the bed, letting her shimmy on to it carefully before laying back against the stacked pillows behind her. She was a type of pale Sam had never seen before, not even in a patient. He crossed his left arm over himself, his right elbow coming up to rest on it as his hand covered his mouth and chin.

"No." Her voice was small and afraid whilst her eyes held a question as she gazed across to the Obstetrician, her chest rising and falling almost in time with Sam's. "Nothing."

"Alright, let's have a look." He sanitised and gloved up efficiently, looking back to the two men. "Perhaps we can give Mrs Beauchamp some privacy?"

"Right, yes, of course." Elliot was quick to agree, nodding reassuringly at his dear friend. "We'll be right outside." Stepping back, he looked at Sam as if prompting him to follow, to his surprise he did. Although, Elliot couldn't help but feel for the young registrar, he looked positively grief-stricken.

"No, wait." She gasped in a panicked fashion. "Not Sam." There was a slight pause, as if she was trying to stop herself from saying it but failed. "He can stay." Her glassy eyes locked on to his for a brief and fleeting moment before looking back to the Obstetrician. "He's the Father." Elliot's focus landed back on Sam, a small smile gracing his grey bearded face as he gave his back an encouraging pat and left them to their privacy. Sam was already an emotional mess. By no means crying but he was definitely teary as he furthered himself into the room, still not quite knowing where to place himself. There was a chair nearby but he couldn't even comprehend sitting right now. Ultimately he settled on Connie's left side by the wall, trying to give her enough space.

"This really is quite substantial bleeding, isn't it?" He asked nobody in particular as he studied the stained bed sheets. "I've organised a transfusion to be on standby but it looks like we'll definitely be needing it after all. For now, I'm going to pack the area to try and stem the bleeding." Sam watched him carefully, attempting to gauge how serious it was. From his perspective it looked incredibly dire, even more so when he turned to grab the phone and make that essential call. "Alright, it's on it's way down." He went through the sanitising and gloving all over again before approaching the bed. "Let's drape this over your lower half, we'll need the dress to come up." Tugging the blue woollen blanket up he motioned to her ruined gown.

"Just cut it, I don't care." Although she wasn't experiencing any pain, she could definitely feel the effects of losing what felt like pints upon pints of blood and her strength was quickly diminishing. The Obstetrician didn't question her, especially seeing her visible decline. Using his scissors carefully, he cut all the way up the front of her dress from ankle to the middle of her ribcage in order to gain access to her dainty bump.

"We'll organise a gown soon, I'd just like to get the scan underway as quickly as I can." Pulling the blanket over her legs up to her hip bones, he proceeded to place the packs down delicately beneath the cover of the blanket before pasting the clear gel on her bump and running the scanner head over it. Sam had felt as though he was intruding, thus turned away politely but not before having seen the the vast amount of blood she was losing.

"What do you think it is?" He finally found his voice, it was shaky and uncertain but it was a voice nonetheless.

"Right now I'm just trying to rule out miscarriage or placental abruption." He turned to look at them both one by one. "They're the worst case scenarios." His attention moved back to the screen as Sam stepped closer to the bed, almost straining his ears to hear anything that sounded remotely like a heartbeat. Nothing. His brows were furrowed deeply, he stopped moving once he'd reached the side of the bed. Both of their eyes were glued to the screen, Connie's focus remained intact in spite of what was happening to her body, her right hand holding her dress in place on her chest and her left palm resting limply by her side. "There we go, there's one heartbeat." He stated calmly. "No sign of the second one yet." He continued moving the scanner across her abdomen, he could almost feel them both holding their breaths behind him. Sam could honestly feel his legs shaking, his jaw tensing and un-tensing rapidly. He could see Connie's chest heaving quickly but felt useless in soothing her. He couldn't do anything or say anything to undo this. Offering her all he could, he lowered his left hand down to hers, his fingers brushing at the inside of her thumb in a caring manner. To his utter surprise she grasped on to it tenderly, not once turning to face him. He could tell she was trying to stay as calm but the noticeable torment in her features was hard to miss. Squeezing her hand consolingly, he partly felt like this was for his own gain too. There was still no sign of the second heartbeat, her gut instinct was telling her it was Will's baby, he'd already lost one tonight and here goes the second one. Stood next to her, Sam was sharing similar thoughts, he was preparing himself to mourn the loss of his unborn child. "And there's the second one!" The surly looking Obstetrician smiled for the first time this evening, glancing back at the looks of pure relief and elation on their faces. Sam immediately stepped back, dropping on to the chair behind him whilst still gripping on to Connie's shaking hand. His legs had more or less given way. On the bed however Connie let her head fall back into the pillows cautiously, the alleviation of dread washing over her. She was still pale and breathless as she lay back. "Alright, both babies are looking fine, a little distressed but they're fine." Whilst he was talking, a nurse entered the room and sat Connie's notes down before setting up the IV ready for the transfusion, a sense of ease washing over everyone in the room as soon as she had a line in one of Connie's veins and the process had been initiated.

"And the placenta? Is there an abruption?" Sam's eyes rolled from Connie's increasingly sleepy state to the concentrating Obstetrics professional.

"I'm not seeing any abruption-"

"But?" Sam prompted eagerly.

"But, I think I can see the problem. I just can't be sure using only the ultrasound." He removed his hand from her abdomen and packed the machine away at an efficient speed before yet again replacing his gloves and covering her abdomen with the warm blanket. "The transfusion should start to do it's job soon, I know you're probably feeling extremely fatigued. That's the blood loss, it'll wear off shortly, alright?" He clocked her heavy eyelids and ghostly complexion before allowing his gaze to roam down to her covered legs. "I know this isn't ideal, but I'm going to need to attempt an internal examination."

"But if there's a bleed couldn't that cause further damage?" Sam jumped in swiftly. "We were involved in a building collapse this evening, she could have sustained a bleed you're not seeing on the scan."

"Mr Strachan, with all due respect, I know what I'm doing." He raised his brow in a reassuring yet reprimanding style as he discreetly lifted the blanket up at one side. "The bleeding looks to be slowing down, it's nowhere near as bad as it was before. Okay, Mrs Beauchamp, I'll make this as quick and as gentle as I possibly can." He proceeded with his examination, replacing the old packs around her inner thighs with new ones before tearing his blood covered gloves off and sanitising for a third time this evening.

"What is it?" He felt as though he was doing all of the talking tonight but Connie was hardly in any state to even breathe a sentence right now.

"Placenta previa." He rolled his lips together, grabbing his pen and Connie's notes, talking whilst he read her history. "She's had a bleed before? A few weeks ago, is that correct?"

"Mmm." Her voice made itself heard whilst nodding feebly.

"Yes, technically it should have been picked up at the last scan but it was difficult to pinpoint."

"And this placenta previa, I should know what it is, shouldn't I?" Sam stretched his concentration from Connie back to the no-nonsense doctor stood opposite him.

"It means that the placenta is covering the opening of the cervix, rough movement, strenuous exercise or any kind of penetration can cause bleeds such as the one Mrs Beauchamp has experienced tonight. This one was a particularly bad one though."

"Partial or complete?" Her tired sentence hit the air gently, the colour gradually starting to come back to her face as the transfusion worked it's magic.

"Thankfully, it's only partially covering. Which means there's a greater chance this could correct itself as you progress with your pregnancy."

"And if it doesn't?" Sam stepped in again, voicing his concerns. Connie was obviously familiar with this terminology but he wasn't.

"You're most likely looking at a planned C-Section whenever viable. This condition is more common in multiple births, even without it you'd probably be advised to have a cesarean section since you're carrying more than one foetus. Especially if you continue to have bleeds such as this one. But my guess is, the physical trauma of this evening's events probably kickstarted it, particularly if you've had a fall or other abdominal injury. We'll admit you for a few nights, monitor you for now but it's definitely nothing to stress too much about, it's an extremely manageable condition and both babies are doing well. You _will_ need to have more frequent check-ups from now on though, just to monitor the grade of the placenta previa." He moved his hands back to the blanket, checking the status of the bleed before lowering the woollen sheet again gently. "It's definitely slowing, I'll get one of the nurses in to organise you with a gown, some fresh bed sheets and packs to continue absorbing the bleed, but it's already reduced significantly." He returned his pen to his top pocket, looking at her gashed head and angry looking elbow. "I'll get someone down to take a look at your other injuries too, alright? If you have any questions, I'm here until the morning so feel free to give me a shout." He nodded at Sam before giving Connie a smile and leaving quietly. It was like another round hospital staff tag-teams this evening, he'd only left the room for a mere few seconds before the nurse entered again, allowing them no time to speak. Just the steady sound of her fast-paced breathing as she stared down at herself. She was still clutching her dress to her chest, the Obstetrician had cut it nearly clean off, leaving her to feel slightly exposed and uncomfortable. Sam quickly pulled his hand away as the nurse placed down all the clean sheets and robes.

"I'll, uh, I'll give you some privacy." He spoke gently, the care and concern ringing clearly in his soft-spoken tone as he saw her sitting forward to stand and dress into the gown. She said nothing, instead just offering him a small and soundless nod whilst she avoided his gaze. His eyes travelled to the nurse, who flashed him a sweet smile as she began to help Connie up. Closing the door quietly behind himself, he came face to face with Elliot, who had somehow managed to find food at this hour.

"I just spoke to the Obstetrician, everything is well?" His blue and sparkling eyes held a glimmer of hope as they practically bore into Sam's very soul.

"Uh, yeah, yeah both babies are fine." He stammered in a shell-shocked fashion. "And the bleed is slowing, she's having a transfusion."

"Good, good." Nodding with a relief tinted sigh, he took another bite of what looked like a vending machine cookie. "Listen, I've just had Martha on the phone-"

"Is everything alright?" He interjected quickly, noting the pull in his wrinkled brow.

"Yes, no, everything is fine, it's just with this accident and the road blockage the buses are all pulling their services for the evening. She has no lift home."

"It's fine, Elliot." Sam reassured promptly upon seeing where this sentence was headed. "I can stay here for a bit, make sure she's okay if you need to leave?"

"I'd really be very grateful if you could? The Obstetrician said they're keeping her in for a few nights? You couldn't perhaps make a small trip to her house and pick up some essentials for her?"

"Oh right." He raised his eyebrows slightly bewildered that he'd ask him to enter Connie's safe space. "No of course, I can do that."

"Thank you kindly, I appreciate it." He finished of the last of his cookie before pulling a small note pad and pen from his pocket, squiggling down a couple of sentences at decent speed. "This is her address, she'll just need some fresh clothes, toothbrush you know the sorts."

"I think I can manage that." He smirked briefly, taking the crumpled paper from the older surgeon's crumby hands.

"There's a spare key in the top drawer of her desk in her office." He rushed the last of his sentence as his phone started singing again. "I'll speak to you later, thanks Sam." Answering his phone irately he began walking away briskly. "Yes, Martha, I am _on_ my way!" Sam couldn't help but smile at the beginning of his phone call as he rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight.

Making his way to the shared consultants office, he couldn't help but feel a little haunted after seeing one of the hospital cleaners mopping steadily at the small pools of blood Connie had left in her wake. His mind was racing with all of the various feelings and emotions he'd experienced. The horrible lump he'd had in his throat at the possibility of losing this baby. He couldn't bear to lose another one, figuratively or literally. His over-worked brain continued to tick on his small journey. The office was calm and tranquil, offering him an explanation as to why she liked to seek solace in here often, it had a warm and comforting feeling to it. Whether it was the soft yellow and cream decor or the gentle lighting of their lamps. They coincided harmoniously with the night-time sky visible from their extremely large window, the street lights glittering the ground below. Either way, it was reposeful. Taking a brief moment to bask in the serenity, he soon began his search for the key. It was a very short-lived hunt, her desk was as tidy as the rest of her side of the office. Next to the key in the drawer lay a white envelope, it was handwritten and posted from London. He _knew_ he shouldn't, he felt it in his bones but he just had to. He couldn't help himself. Navigating his hand carefully, he slid the handwritten note from the already opened envelope. It didn't count if he didn't remove it from the drawer, right? His mouth corners turned downwards, his eyebrows frowning as he read the scrawled writing as best he could.

"Any luck?" Elliot's bumbling frame entered the office surprisingly, needless to say Sam had panicked and slammed the drawer shut with an overwhelming fright.

"Uh, yeah, found it! Thanks, Elliot." He smiled nervously before turning the focus back to Mr Hope in an expert manner. "I thought Martha was waiting for you?"

"Yes, she was, she _is._ " He winced sheepishly. "Forgot my keys." He pushed his hand around on the surface of his messy desk whilst Sam watched on with intrigue. He almost saw the light-bulb appear above the older gentlemen's head as he hummed to himself and moved around the cluttered space to open the top drawer. "Bingo!" He laughed and pulled the keys out before pausing for a moment and dipping his hand back in. To Sam's complete and utter shock, he fished out another plastic wrapped cookie. The man only had a whole drawer full of them, his very own free-of-charge vending machine. "Would you like one?"

"Um, no, I'm alright thank you." He smiled with a slight chuckle, exiting the office with him.

* * *

Her house was exactly as he'd expected. Modern, clean, clutter free and spacious. It almost mimicked her side of the office, whilst Elliot's side looked positively like a dumping ground. He felt awful for thinking it, however, he couldn't help but wonder how messy the male consultant's house might be if even his _office_ was that badly piled with junk. As he wandered about her home, he felt like he was invading her privacy a little, completely ignoring the fact that he'd just been sneaking glances at her private mail. That thought was still lingering with him too, before Elliot had interrupted he was learning that Connie had a mystery brother, that's who the letter was from. He never got to finish it, unfortunately but it sounded as though they were out of touch and he was offering an olive branch through this letter.

"Clothes." He muttered to himself quietly as he climbed the stairs. "Where do you keep your clothes?" He entered the first room at the very top of the stairs, relieved that it was indeed the correct one. He paused to take in the appearance, it was soft and gentle. Not at all a reflection of the Connie Beauchamp they were all accustomed to at work, but still it was strangely nice to see. His eyes rolled over the muted white furniture glowing under the creeping moonlight. She had a walk-in-wardrobe, would he expect any less? Finding his way inside, he located an overnight bag and packed what he needed before making a move for the stairs again. Before he could exit her pastel coloured room, his eyes settled on the large green NHS cardigan tucked sweetly between her white bed pillows. Taking it carefully, he placed it inside the bag and zipped it shut. He wasn't entirely sure if this was a smart move but he felt it was right.

* * *

 _"Must you really do that?" He growled from the nested sheets around him as he watched her from the bed. It was nearing six o'clock in the evening and they'd spent almost the entire afternoon lounging in bed._

 _"What?" Asking innocently, she glanced at him in the mirror. She was sat at the vanity table, topless in nothing but a pair of knickers and a towel wrapped around her short-haired head as she put her makeup on._

 _"You know what." He smirked, referring to her teasing behaviour as she gave him a sensual smile, attaching her earrings one by one._

 _"I don't know what you're talking about, Mr Curtis."_

 _"Don't go to this charity dinner tonight."_

 _"Will, I have to go."_

 _"Not with him."_

 _"He's my husband, I have to be by his side-"_

 _"And I'm your lover, I need you here, in bed with me. All night." He sat up, allowing the sheets to drop to his lap and reveal his chiselled torso. Her eyes in the mirror instantly moved down from his smug face to his ripped body behind her. She could feel herself involuntarily dragging her glossed lower lip between her teeth, biting at it erotically._

 _"He already knows I'm sleeping around, I can't-"_

 _"And you know that he is too, so why not? Blow him off for once, he does it to you enough."_

 _"It's not just his name, Will. It's mine too." She soothed, finally turning on the padded stool to look at him and giving him the full frontal show he was waiting for. "Everyone important is going to be there, including-"_

 _"His lordship-"_

 _"Lord Charles Byrne." She smiled at his sulky attitude. "Look, we really need this funding for Darwin. I've been after it for months and now is my chance to express my ideas to Charles and possibly snatch the funding from General Surgery." She tilted her head, studying him as he eyed up her figure. "Christ knows that department has had more than enough new equipment in the last twelve months, it's our turn." She scoffed becoming irate. "You know, we're still sharing one scanner between two theatres-"_

 _"I love it when you get angry, but it''s even better when you're nude." He cut off her aggressive rant, making his way off the bed and towards where she sat. As soon as he reached her, he bent to kiss her urgently forcing her to lean back onto the edge of her makeup table as the kiss intensified. Her hands immediately went to his bare thighs as his gripped her her nipped in waist, smoothing further up to her breasts before she pulled away gently._

 _"Lipstick." Her whispered word tickled his ear she was that close, sending shivers rushing down his spine. Still feeling at her body, he pulled his head back a fraction to look her in the eyes, their faces only millimetres apart as his forehead tilted down to meet hers. She was about to succumb to the feeling and let his lips tastes hers again but the sound of the front door slamming made them both jump._

 _"That's not him, is it?"_

 _"Yes." She stood up quickly, brushing past him to close her bedroom door. "You need to go."_

 _"Go?" He laughed, holding his arms out emphatically. He was still nude and it was incredibly distracting for her. "Go where? Out the window?" His laughing ceased quickly upon noting her serious expression as she gathered his clothes from the floor, handing them to him urgently._

 _"Yes, now. Go!" He only managed to pull his boxers and trousers on, kissing her in a rushed fashion whilst she pressed herself flush with his chest, walking him backwards to the window. Pulling away breathlessly she opened it up wide enough for him as he wriggled back into his shirt._

 _"I'll see you tomorrow, boss." He spoke after climbing out of the window and on to the roof covering her porch, stealing another kiss from her as though he was at a kissing booth window, she shook her head and gently pushed him backwards in order to close the pane. As soon as she clocked him dropping down the drainpipe she turned and grabbed his NHS cardigan, throwing it on and zipping it up speedily._

 _"Who were you talking to?" Michael entered the room nonchalantly, loosening his tie as he dropped his suit jacket on to the wicker chair near the door._

 _"Nobody, that was Elliot on the phone." Her panted breaths were concealed well._

 _"Christ, what did he want this time?"_

 _"Nothing, just, uh, just some advice on his situation with Gina." She glanced down at her red-coated toenails, a slight guilt overcoming her for using such a sad and delicate situation to cover her infidelity. She only looked up again when she registered the silence and lack of movement from him. "What?"_

 _"Nice cardigan." He scoffed. "It's a little too big, wouldn't you say?" His grey eyes looked up her bare legs to her body and finally settling on her face. The bottom of the over-sized zip-up was just covering her underpants. "Let me guess, a mix up in the locker room?" He foreshadowed some sort of excuse would leave her mouth but his suggestion was met with no sort of guilt or panicked lying, as it would be if the tables were turned._

 _"Exactly." She smiled in a sickly sweet fashion and moved back to her vanity as he remained standing uselessly by the door. "We're going to be late if you don't get a move on." Ignoring his presence, she picked up from where she left off. Smiling to herself with accomplishment when he silently closed himself in the en-suite bathroom._

* * *

Sam had returned to the room to find her already gowned and asleep on her side in the fresh, white sheets. Her colour had returned and her breathing was soft and light in nature again. His chest felt the crushing weight of worry leaving him as he'd sat her bag down on the second visitor chair, she was fine and so were both babies. He watched over her for a few seconds, noticing that the gash on her head had been cleaned up and there was a large bandage covering her wounded elbow. Turning around, he grabbed the overnight bag and opened it gently to pull out the male-scented item of clothing before draping it sweetly across her upper body.

Once again, she was covered protectively by the last of his existence.


	15. Chapter 15

**I'm in two minds about this fic, on the one hand it is my favourite fic to write for. But at the same time it's the least popular, so I find that writing chapters (which takes roughly 2-3 days to write) is often, what I feel like, a waste of time. I have received a couple of messages and twitter DM's regarding the continuation of it, so perhaps I'll use this as the fic I'll update when I'm having a bout of writer's block, this way it feels less pointless. XX**

"I wondered how long it'd be before you stirred?" Elliot smiled down at her warmly. "Dr. Thompson will be down shortly, he wants to do another scan." The on-call Obstetrician had indeed left but now her regular Obstetrician was on site since it was nine o'clock in the morning. Elliot watched as she sat herself up slowly, Will's NHS fleece still draped sweetly over her upper body. It was the next day and she'd managed to bag a good eight hours of sleep. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Rough." She tried her best to give him a smile but he could see it was exhausting. Looking down she pulled the fleece away gently, her hands smoothing over it's material in a doting manner before she suddenly wondered how and why it was _here_ when she knew she'd left it on her bed at home.

"Yes, I hope you don't mind, I had to rush away last night so Mr. Strachan picked up some essentials for you, although I'm not quite sure where he got that from." It was almost as if he'd read her mind, or maybe even her questioning facial expression. His face looked puzzled too, staring at the large item of the clothing. "Yours is in the office on your chair." His words sounded muffled, her own thoughts becoming loud in her mind. Sam had brought this in for her? She was about to open her mouth but Dr. Thompson re-entered the room before she got the chance.

"Good morning." He smiled. "I hope you're feeling a little more human today? I heard you had a rough night?"

"Bit of an understatement there." Offering him the same tired smile she'd given Elliot, he returned the expression as he seated himself on the stool by the CT scanner.

"Well, I'm more than happy with how much things have improved over night, I just want to take a closer look at the babies and ensure all is still well, alright? If everything is looking good, we can even consider discharging you this afternoon." Her feeble nod gave him the okay to go ahead, holding the blanket up to give her a modicum of privacy as he rolled her gown up and proceeded with the scan. "I must say, they're both looking really good, nice steady heartbeats." He smiled at the screen before turning to face her. "I can even tell you the sexes today if you wish? I'm assuming things were a little dire last night and Mr. Keysen didn't have time." He awaited a response from her but she was still and silent, not having a single clue what her answer should be. Any normal woman would be excited to know, wouldn't they? Whereas the mere thought of finding out terrified her. Knowing whether she was having girls or boys or one of each? It was petrifying, it made this whole situation much more real.

* * *

Walking down the hospital corridor, he suddenly felt stupid clutching at the flowers in his grip. He'd picked them up on his way into work with the intention of giving them to Connie but he was quickly back-peddling on the idea. How would she react to it? Was this even the right thing to get someone after what's happened? What if she thought he was overstepping and she shut him out again? He finally felt like he had his foot in the door after last night, he didn't want to ruin things now, especially not over a pointless bouquet of petals.

"Sam, what are these for?" Chrissie gushed excitedly, sliding up beside him out of nowhere and wrongly assuming the loving gesture was for her. "You didn't need to do this! And to think, some people say romance is dead?" She took the flowers from him, kissing his cheek sweetly before admiring the beautiful bunch. "I'm gonna get these in some water, they're gorgeous, thank you." Kissing him again, this time on the lips and more romantically he didn't even get to utter a single word before she disappeared into the staff room.

"You're welcome." He muttered to himself quietly in a deflated manner before looking back up in the direction he'd originally been headed. He stopped almost as quickly as he'd started upon seeing her entering her office. She'd been discharged already? Returning movement to his legs, he made his way to her office and knocked lightly on the open door. She was wearing the clothes he'd collected for her last night, her complexion looking a lot more well than when he'd last seen her. "Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked delicately, as always, not exactly certain of how his caring question would be received.

"Honestly? Like I need a strong drink." She broke the eye contact, smiling weakly. "I'm fine, thanks."

"And the b-"

"Yes." She interrupted irritably. "Yes, they're both fine too." She began searching her desk for some papers, his eyes watching her every move until they landed on the NHS fleece she'd placed on her chair behind where she stood.

"Listen, about last night-"

"If I could, I'd just like to forget about it, please." She ran her fingers through her short hair, a heavy and dense sigh accompanying her actions. "People _died_ last night, Sam. Okay? Susan _lost_ her baby, _Will's_ baby -" She stopped speaking as soon as she could feel her emotions starting to dictate her behaviour, leaning on her desk she dropped her head and closed her eyes. Taking a deep and steady breath, she looked up and started again, this time more calmly. "I just experienced a minor incident, that's all-"

" _Minor?_ " He retorted in disbelief, was she really downplaying the situation as something _minor_? "Connie, you could have lost both babies too-"

"Yes, but I didn't." She cut him off softly, taking him by surprise. As he studied her expression he could see the same look on her face as the one last night when they'd waited to hear the reassuring sound of her babies beating hearts, her hand had gripped on to his so tenderly at that moment he could almost still feel it all these hours later. She looked gentle and approachable again.

"I'm not trying to argue, I just wanted to see how you are, how the babies are." The defeat in his voice made her recoil slightly, remembering last nights horrific events she was reminded of how sweet he was with her and she was beginning to feel bad.

"No, I know, I just-" She sat down carefully, wary of her injuries. "I have a lot going on right now." The silence was prickly as she glanced down, her thoughts collecting as she looked back to him again. "Thank you for staying last night, Elliot said you're the one who brought my things in-" He cut her off, a tone of defence in his voice.

"He asked me to-"

"I know." She interjected restfully. "I was just going to say, thank you." The look she gave him told him exactly what she was thanking him for, she felt warm inside with the understanding that he'd known to bring the fleece. It was the sweetest act of compassion she'd experienced since Will passed.

"I figured it might help you sleep or at least feel comforted." He blinked, still stood in the doorway. "I still have my son's hat from when he was born-" He paused with a wistful smile but it faded quickly as soon as he saw her sympathetic eyes blinking at him from across the room. "Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Sam-"

"I have to go, Elliot already warned me we'd be all hands on deck since you'll be taking the day off and Joseph is still on leave." Uttering his sentence as quickly as he could, he clamped his left fist in his right hand before turning and leaving. A trail of regret following his footsteps. She felt horrible. Her memory being catapulted back to the previous night, just before the accident when they were arguing he'd told her he had another child. One that he doesn't see. She couldn't imagine that feeling in all honesty, she still felt quite numb about her unborn babies as it was. She just thanked the heaven's above that through these scares she'd been having she'd at least experienced a feeling of worry when it came to the thought of losing them. That was a good sign, right? Her whirling thoughts were yet again interrupted, this time by Elliot.

"Oh, you're still here? Thought you'd be long gone by now." He chortled to himself, approaching the horrific mess that was his desk.

"No, I uh, just needed to grab some things and then I'll be off." She stood slowly, opening the drawer to grab the dreaded envelope.

"Ah yes, the mystery letter! Who was it from?" He looked at her full of intrigue as he recalled placing said letter on her desk the day before. He'd been wondering about it all evening until of course they were all almost bulldozed over by a large vehicle.

"Nobody important." She lied. "Just an old friend making contact."

"Well, I think that's rather lovely and if you don't mind me saying so, I think another friend in your life won't go amiss at the moment."

"Thanks very much." Her sarcastic response made him smile.

"Please, take it easy today and-"

"I can call you if I need anything." She smiled. "I know the drill, Elliot."

"Make sure you do." He left the office, making more mess on his way out as he knocked a stack of papers over. He was incredibly sweet but so, _so_ clumsy she often wondering if he was real.

She did what suggested and headed home to rest for the day but the envelope was niggling away at her incessantly as she sat in silence. She was restless as it was, but even more so with this piece of paper staring at her. She was perched neatly on the settee, the scrawled letter propped on the coffee table directly before her. She'd placed it there with the purpose of weighing up the pros and cons of calling the number he'd enclosed. Her brother. Now. Of all people? What could he possible want from her after nearly twelve years or zero contact? The majority of her brain was screaming at her to keep the ties severed, throw the letter way and be done with it. But a smaller, more caring part of her brain was telling her to call him, for who knows what it could be about. For him to extend an olive branch after all this time, perhaps there was something really wrong? Something she'd regret if she didn't at least see what it was that he wanted.

The caring part of her brain won. This time.

Huffing to herself, she snatched the white and tattered envelope before opening it viciously and dialling the number in her phone. Here goes nothing.

* * *

"Mr Strachan." Elliot murmured softly, his chubby hand squeezing at Sam's shoulder in a caring manner. "He's gone, it's time to stop now." He was out of breath, panting ferociously as he continued to perform chest compressions on the young teen. That was the second patient today they'd lost and he couldn't hold in her temper any longer.

"This is ridiculous." He breathed, his nostrils flaring as he slow started to stop with CPR. "We're two surgeons down, Elliot. _Why_ has there been no locum appointed?" His hands remained on his bloodied up chest, he'd been out of theatre a mere twenty minutes before arresting. The crash trolleys nowhere to be found, forcing him to manually try to keep the young boy alive. To no avail. He felt like the hospital was crumbling around him. A complete shambles.

"The accident last night, it's seen all hospitals nearby struggling for staff. We're particularly hard done by with the absence of Joseph and Connie. This isn't your fault-"

"I _know_ it's not my fault!" He barked angrily. "It's the system, it's failing everyone!"

"Alright." Cooing delicately, he pursed his lips as the silence ensued. He knew the younger registrar was lashing out in a moment of anger and thus waited for the regret to hit him. He was right on cue.

"Sorry, I just, we try _so_ hard to save lives yet the system around us seems to actively be working _against_ us instead of _with_ us." He finally removed his hands from the boy's still chest. The quietness draping over them once more before he spoke again. "I'll go and speak to the parents-"

"I can do that-"

"No, I want to, please."

It was never an easy task, explaining to heartbroken relatives that despite their best efforts they haven't been able to save their loved one's life. And this time it was no different. In fact, it even felt a little harder down to the fact that Sam was just so unexplainably angry that this had even occurred in the first place. Seeking refuge in the staff room following the sickening conversation, he let his head rest in his hands exhaustedly. He couldn't work out whether it was the lack of sleep and the events of last night all catching up with him. Not to mention he was still mentally and emotionally recovering from being attacked weeks earlier. He honestly had no idea how Connie could keep going the way she was, all of the trauma being thrown her way yet she still powered on regardless. Perhaps he just wasn't built for it? Either way, he admired that quality in her.

* * *

She couldn't refrain from feeling slightly angry at herself for sitting here like a mug as regret started to creep into her mind. She'd agreed to meet her brother in town, a nice public place to prevent any drama from occurring. Her work colleagues thought she was fiery tempered? They hadn't had the pleasure of meeting her borderline explosive older brother. She was bouncing her leg restlessly, scanning her surroundings she soon found herself people watching. Studying each and every person around her. The older couple at the table to her left were struggling to control what appeared to be three young grandchildren, despite their obvious endeavour to do so, they looked extremely happy. The children too, laughing and enjoying the time with their grandmother and grandfather. She felt herself smiling unconsciously before the cold and bitter fact bit her hard. Her children wouldn't have that, in fact her children wouldn't have anybody but herself. No aunts, uncles, grandparents. Not even a Father.

"I didn't think you'd come." His gruff voice startled her, but her appearance seemed to startle him more. She'd almost forgotten how she looked, bloodied and bruised from the previous evening.

"Yeah, well, I almost didn't." She answered coldly as he took a seat opposite her. The table between them offering a good and safe distance. His eyes looked like hers but they had an iciness to them as he surveyed his younger sister's complexion. "So I urge you to make the most of the thirty minutes I promised you."

"I was going to say you look well, but you really don't." His cool eyes roamed over the butterfly stitch on her forehead, the bruising around it looking sore. "What happened? Did that husband of yours do this?"

" _Ex-husband_ and no, he didn't, don't try and _act_ like you care-" She cut herself off sharply. "Look, James, we're not here to talk about me. So, if you could get to the point, please." Putting him straight only forty seconds into their reunion, he couldn't help but lean back in surprise.

"Wow, James now, is it? You always used to call me Jamie. And I care, Connie, of course I care. You're my sister." He smiled, attempting to bring up their childhood and past times but she wasn't having any of it.

"That was then, things have changed now."

"You're telling me. It's been eleven years since I last saw you-"

"Twelve." She snapped, offering him a stony stare.

"You always did love correcting everyone, didn't you-"

" _Stop_ trying to make small-talk, you wrote to me, asked me to meet you and said it was important. I'm here, face to face with you now, so just get on with it." Her aggressive sentence hovered between them before he held his hands up in surrender.

"It's Dad." He started but stopped immediately as she scoffed with an eye-roll.

"What's he done this time? Hm? Robbed a nursing home? Burnt down an orphanage?"

"He's sick."

"He's been _sick_ all his life, it's just the way he is." She growled, her temper spiking at the mere thought of her no-good Father.

"No, _really_ sick, Con." He tensed his jaw and glanced down at the table before attempting to grab her hand but she pulled it away. "He's dying."

"I really hope this isn't what you've dragged me down here for? Our pathetic excuse of a Father is dying and what? I'm supposed to give a damn? After everything he's done?" She widened her eyes, her brows raising whilst awaiting a decent answer. "I hate to sound callous but I really couldn't care less, James. He's already dead to me." She found herself looking down with thought following her cold words before returning her gaze to him quickly. "You know what? I, uh, I really shouldn't have come and neither should you. I hate to break it to you but you've had a wasted trip from London-"

"Holby." He corrected quietly, studying her reaction carefully. "We moved to Holby last week."

"No." She whispered sadly, not believing this was true. "No, you wouldn't do that."

"Believe it or not, we didn't move here to stir up your perfect little life, Connie." He snapped back, starting to show signs of his volatile nature. If only he knew how imperfect her life really was. "Me and my wife Alyssa, we've brought Dad with us too."

"I spent my entire youth trying to escape that man!" She blurted out irately, her hand slamming on to the table and gaining the attention of some cafe patrons surrounding them. "And you've just gone and undone it all-"

"Connie-"

"No!" She more or less bit his head off. "No, you listen to me. I don't want him _anywhere_ near me, he stays away and so do you." She was up and out of her seat faster than he could blink. Throwing her bag over her shoulder she only just made it out of the doorway on to the street with him close behind her before he grabbed her upper arm roughly.

"Don't walk away from me!" His face looked just like their Father's but this time his eyes looked softer, almost like he was pleading. "Please, Connie! He needs some sort of heart surgery-"

"Of course." She laughed humourlessly, her arm beginning to throb in his grip. "I should have known, he _needs_ me to do it? That's why you're here." She couldn't help but feel stupid for thinking he was here trying to make amends, he just needed her medical expertise.

"Excuse me, is this man hassling you?" A large tattooed man had rushed out of the cafe as soon as he'd seen the altercation become physical.

"Yes." She breathed, her eyes never leaving her brother's. "Yes, he is." Pulling her arm from his grip, he let go instantly with the threat of another large man getting in his face. He was of a similar build and appearance to James, rough, bald, angry and quite frankly scary looking.

"Connie, please-"

"I don't think she's interested, mate." The stranger continued to defend her, much to James' annoyance.

"She's my _sister_! And what the hell has this got to do with you?" Screwing his face up irately he shoved the hero stranger, only inviting him to square up if anything but Connie's instincts took over. The last thing she wanted was for an innocent person to get involved and possibly even hurt because of her.

"Alright! Alright, enough! I'll do it, I'll take a look at him." She bellowed between them, the possibility of a fight cooling as soon as James heard her and backed down for the first time in his life. "But after that, I'm _done_." She turned to the red faced cafe-goer, offering him a thankful smile before he shot James one last threatening look.

"I'll be inside if he tries anything again." Shaking his head, he moved back indoors and sat at his seat making sure to keep a stern eye on them. It was things like this that kind of restored her faith in humanity sometimes.

"Once I've assessed him, I can give you names of people you can see, surgeons that can help."

"Can't you just op-"

"No, I can't operate, for one thing it is _completely_ unethical and secondly I'd rather amputate my own leg than physically assist in prolonging _his_ life." Her words were spoken with an intensely deep level of hatred. "As soon as Ive done what I just said, I don't want to see either of you again." Her voice was low, her hand rubbing at her already injured arm where he'd just grabbed her. Remorse was already rushing through his entire body.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt-"

"Yes, but you did though, didn't you?" Her words were much more emotional now, her facade starting to crack but she wouldn't let it fall apart completely. "You are _just_ like him and you can't even see it."

"He's not the same man he was all those years ago, Connie. He's changed and in a good way. I admit, he wasn't the best of Fathers, I don't even think there's such a thing but he really wants to make up for everything he did."

"Yeah, well, it's too late for that now. I'll help you this one time and that's it." She loathed his comment on Fathers, there were _plenty_ of men in the world who made great Fathers, sadly hers just wasn't one of them. Continuing to hold her arm gingerly, she knew he'd aggravated the wound. It felt hot and painful beneath her white coat.

"Oh God." He breathed slightly panicked. "You're bleeding, I'm so sorry-" He tried to take her arm gently but she pulled away. "Connie, I swear, I didn't mean to do it that hard, I just wanted you to listen." He looked genuinely mortified that he'd caused such harm, unbeknownst to him it was from the previous night.

"It's fine." She sighed irritably. "This wasn't your doing, although you've just made it worse." Shooting him a cold glare, she turned her attention back to her coat covered elbow where she could see it reddening through the fabric. "I need to go and get this looked at, don't contact me again. I'll call you when I can fit you in-"

" _Fit us in_? We're your family-"

"No, no you're not." She lay down the law firmly, growing tired of him forcing this blood relationship. She'd disowned them and cut ties with them for a reason, her mind couldn't be changed on that. "I'm extremely busy and we're down a surgeon, so I'll organise something as soon as I can. If that's not to your liking, you can walk away. That's it, that's my _only_ offer."

"You can't keep this up forever, you know? We live here now, whether you like it or not you'll be seeing a lot more of us." He stared at her silently, the grey sky above them only emphasising the mood of the conversation. The wind had picked up too, her open coat catching the breeze as her blouse clung to her bump with the gust of air. His eyes instantly landed on her small yet rounded abdomen before she clocked his gaze and swiftly pulled her coat around herself protectively. She felt the atmosphere suddenly become awkward as she avoided his questioning eyes and found her voice again.

"I want nothing to do with the pair of you after this, just stay away from me-"

"You're pregnant?" He asked warmly, studying her shielded body language as he awaited a reply but she was silent. "Well, are you?"

"That is _none_ of your business." Talking through a clenched jaw, she crossed her arms over herself and finally locked eyes with him if only for five or so seconds before looking away again. "Like I said, I'll contact you when I'm free." Brushing past him she started heading down the street to her car, praying that he didn't try and chase after her for more answers. Luckily, he didn't.

* * *

She couldn't stop mulling the entire afternoon over in her mind, she still didn't know exactly how she felt about the whole situation. There was a long and painful history with her brother and Father, one that she couldn't just sweep under the rug and forget about. But at the same time, seeing him in the flesh today he seemed so much more subdued. She'd got a slightly warm feeling upon seeing him, for all the bad memories there were only some good ones. She'd held on to them, assuming they were dead and buried for good but perhaps there was room to reconcile? She kept having the same worrying thought, the one about her children having nobody but herself. Seeing things in a different light now, she thought back to Sam and how desperate he was to be there for his unborn child. Her brother's comment soon floated back into her ear too, about there being no such thing as a good Father. He was wrong, Will was and would have been an amazing Father had he still been alive. So would Sam for that matter, so why was she so hellbent on pushing him out? Surely she shouldn't deprive one of her babies of a doting and loving Father? God knows, she would have done _anything_ to have had a Father like that, so why take that possibility away from her own child? She clenched her teeth angrily at her brain going back and forth on the matter before exhaling and exiting the car. It was evening again and she was back at the hospital. However, this time it wasn't for anything work related. She'd left her arm untreated for the remainder of the day with the hope that it'd clear up by itself but it was looking as though the dressing needed changing and she couldn't really do it with one hand. Once again, she wrapped her coat around herself tightly before locking her car and heading across the car park. Despite it being a hospital, it did look a lot nicer at night time. It's sky high stature and many glowing windows, there was a slightly comforting feel to it. With a steady pace she neared the entrance but soon slowed upon seeing his slumped figure on the bench in the dark. It was Sam. Debating whether or not to approach him, she resorted back to her previous thoughts and allowed her heart to lead this decision.

"You look like you've had a rough day?" She spoke as she got closer to him, coming to a stand still when he looked up at her tiredly.

"Do I really look that bad?" He smiled, glancing back down at his hands in his lap whilst she took a seat next to him delicately.

"I'll be back in tomorrow, take some of the pressure off of you and Elliot." Her words were intended to soothe him but he offered no reaction, allowing the silence to engulf them again. Their breath visible on the cold night air as they exhaled. She had her question on the very tip of her tongue but for once in her life, she was almost too afraid to ask in fear of causing upset. Wrestling with the idea for a minute or so before she finally decided to bite the bullet. "This son of yours, how old is he?" Her tone was warm and caring, Sam felt as though it was squeezing his heart in a tight hug. When she wasn't screaming and yelling at people, she had an incredibly kind and soft-centred side to her that he adored seeing.

"The same age I was when I became Dad." He smiled, glancing at her upon realising his answer carried no meaning. "Seventeen."

"You were so young."

"Yeah, too young. It should never have happened, but it did." He moved his attention back to his lap, unaware of her empathetic eyes rolling over his dishevelled appearance. "I didn't even know she was pregnant, a mutual friend of ours called me when she went into labour and told me I was the Father."

"What happened?" She prompted kind-heartedly.

"I raced to get there as fast as I could but I'd missed the birth, I caused so much chaos outside they were forced to let me in." He smiled tearfully at the recollection, as did she with the clear image of a young Sam behaving exactly the same way now. He hadn't changed by the sounds of it. "I held him for about thirty seconds, maybe even a minute? And that's it, I never saw him again." He sounded heartbroken, his voice struggling to contain the deep pain but she could hear the dainty quivers.

"You lost contact with them?"

"No, her parents forced her to give him up for adoption." He sighed shakily, stealing the odd glance at her face. "I don't know who took him, where he went." There was a suspenseful pause as he stared into the night scenery ahead of him. "I don't even know his name." Connie's heart ached for him, he looked and sounded truly destroyed. "That's why I need you to understand, I'm not going to give up this time." He sniffled, connecting eyes with her as she blinked tearfully back at him. "I'm not going to watch another baby of mine slip away from me, even if I have to fight you tooth and nail. I _will_ be a part of their life." He watched her swallow sadly as she abruptly wiped away a straying tear, readying herself to talk.

"I know she won't be the son you lost, but she's a daughter who will need her Father." She spoke incredibly softly and quietly, her eyes observing every minor detail in his face as it almost instantly thawed before her.


End file.
